


Accelerando Ma Non Troppo

by rosesandspades713



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Fluff, High School, M/M, school band
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-13 22:53:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1243576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosesandspades713/pseuds/rosesandspades713
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Arthur moved to America and joined the high school band, he was expecting something a little more...refined. What he got was, well, not. And to make things even worse, he's forced to sit next to the most idiotic American he has ever met, for the entire year. Graduation can't come soon enough. High School AU, USUK.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Saxophone and the Trumpet

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! This is a fic I started writing over a year ago. It was originally posted to FF.net under my pen name there (tealgirl713), but since I got an account here I thought I'd post it here too. 
> 
> Since a lot of this fic takes place in a high school band room, I'll try to explain confusing musical concepts at the end of every chapter in order to offer readers a better idea of what's going on in the fic.
> 
> And now, without further ado, let the fic begin!

"Hey, Artie! Artie! Look, I'm a trumpet player, too!"

Arthur Kirkland watched un-amusedly as Alfred Jones pulled the mouthpiece off of his saxophone and blew into it, causing a terrible noise to emit from the horn. The entire band room covered their ears.

"Alfred Jones, if I ever hear that noise coming from that instrument ever again, I will personally see to it that you are expelled. Do you understand me?" came the voice of their band director.

"Yes, Mr. Edelstein," Alfred said tiredly. He flashed a grin at Arthur. "Sounded pretty good though, right?"

"If by 'pretty good' you mean like a beached whale, then yes, I suppose it was 'pretty good'."

"Sweet! Thanks, dude!"

Arthur could only roll his eyes as he turned back to his sheet music. If only he didn't have to sit by that insufferable American every day in band. But Mr. Edelstein had assigned them seats at the beginning of the year, and he hadn't changed them, even once. Arthur sat the farthest right of the trumpet players, right next to Alfred, the farthest left of the alto saxophones. It was an unfortunate arrangement for Arthur, as the lot of the saxophones sounded like dying cows.

He turned to the trumpeter sitting next to him, Yao, with whom he got along with fairly well. "I swear, Alfred has no grasp of sarcasm at all."

Yao nodded in agreement, but before he could respond, Mr. Edelstein called for attention from the band. Everyone turned to the front to face him.

"Now that we are all paying attention for once, I would like you to get out Second Suite in F and get ready to play the fourth movement, Fantasia on the Dargason."

The class obliged, pulling out their individual copies of the piece from their music folders. Arthur was smiling. This was one of his favorite pieces of music, and even though it was hard, it was still immensely fun to play. As an added bonus, it was British. Arthur always had a sense of pride in British things. Probably because he had lived in London for most of his life.

Alfred, however, did not feel the same way. "Aww, do we have to play it?" he complained. "It's too hard!"

"It wouldn't be so difficult if you actually practiced it," Arthur said.

"Hey! I do too practice! Just, y'know, not a whole lot."

"I'd be surprised if you even brought your instrument home."

An angry voice was heard from the other side of the alto saxophone section, where Mr. Edelstein was chastising one of them for forgetting his music.

"Gilbert Beilschmidt, this is the second time this week you haven't had your music with you in class!" he said. "How do you expect to get better at playing your instrument if it just sits underneath your chair during class?"

"I am way too awesome to play this stupid music!" Gilbert said grinning evilly up at the teacher. Mr. Edelstein just rolled his eyes and walked back up to the front of the room. There was no use arguing with Gilbert when he was like this. It was widely known that Gilbert was used to being able to do whatever he wanted to in class, seeing as his father was the principal.

The class waited in anticipation as Mr. Edelstein raised his baton. He counted them off, and then the saxophones began the piece with the first couple of notes. Or at least tried to.

Arthur had to admit, they were doing a little better than usual today. But not by much. A couple of them missed their cues at the beginning and they had to start the song over multiple times before Mr. Edelstein was satisfied. Thus Arthur was angry. Didn't the saxophones realize that they weren't the only people in the band? Yet every band period, they monopolized Mr. Edelstein's time and hardly anyone else got to play.

Finally, miraculously, the saxophones managed to get through the first sixteen measures without screwing up. Arthur raised his trumpet to his lips a few beats early in anticipation, and joined in with the melody. The notes were high, but Arthur hit them with practiced ease. He had gotten quite good at the trumpet, back when he lived in London. His family moved to America right before the start of the school year, and he had signed up for the school band right away.

They hit a trouble spot in the piece, the first euphonium solo, and Mr. Edelstein stopped the band. He went to the back of the room to help out their euphonium player, Kiku Honda. Arthur always wondered how short, little Kiku was able to support the large, brass instrument, but he managed to hold his own.

Once Mr. Edelstein was completely absorbed in helping Kiku, Arthur got up to get a drink of water from the sink that was unfortunately placed all the way across the room. When he got back to his seat, he noticed two things. One, his trumpet was gone. Two, Alfred was grinning like a complete lunatic.

"Alfred," Arthur began, his eyes flashing dangerously. "What did you do with my trumpet?"

"What d'ya mean, Artie?" Alfred asked, giving him a too-innocent smile. "I didn't even notice it was gone!"

Arthur had had enough of the stupid American's antics. Checking over his shoulder to make sure Mr. Edelstein was still occupied, he reached forward and grabbed Alfred by the collar, bringing him right up to his face.

"You tell me where my trumpet is right now, Alfred Jones, or I swear to God I will castrate you."

"Fine, dude! Jeez!" Alfred said, putting his hands up in mock surrender. "It's in the cabinet over there."

Arthur let go of him and rushed over to the cabinet Alfred had pointed at, pulling out his trumpet and checking it for the smallest hint of damage. Luckily for his sanity (and Alfred's health), there wasn't a scratch on it. Arthur had brought this trumpet with him all the way from England. He would be crushed if anything bad happened to it.

When Arthur returned to his seat, Mr. Edelstein was up in the front of the room again and ready to conduct the band. "Alright everyone, let's start at Kiku's first solo. Kiku, remember to play loudly. You are the only person in your section."

Kiku nodded back at him, and then they were counted off again. Arthur counted the rests to his part in his head, ignoring Alfred doing the same thing out loud. Didn't the git know he was distracting everyone else around him?

The rest of the band period passed without much incident, with the class practicing the same song over and over right up until the bell rang. There was a flurry of movement as everyone gathered their things together. The students left in small groups, laughing and talking. Arthur found himself to be one of the last ones in there, along with Alfred and a few others. His eyes met Alfred's for one moment before the other winked at him, and reached down to grab Arthur's trumpet case, now containing his trumpet.

"Alfred," Arthur warned. But it was too late. Alfred was already halfway out the door.

"Bollocks," he cursed, picking his backpack off the ground and hurrying after Alfred. His next class was already at the opposite end of the school. Alfred was just going to make him late now.

"Alfred!" Arthur shouted as he weaved his way through the congested hallway of the school. He spotted Alfred right away by his height, and managed to push by everyone in between them, finally walking at a brisk pace beside him.

"Alfred, give me my trumpet back."

"No!" Alfred laughed and sped up, obviously trying to lose Arthur in the crowd. But Arthur would have none of that. He huffed in a breath and followed right behind him, making desperate grabs at his instrument.

"Give it back!" he said, once he finally managed to get a hold on the side handle. "Alfred, I'm going to be late for my class!"

"Luckily for you, we've got the same second period class!" came the reply, hard to hear over all the other conversations in the hall. "So you're only late if I am!" Arthur had forgotten about that. He had his first, second, and sixth period classes with that git. Lucky him.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Alfred laughed to himself as he ascended the stairs to his history classroom, Arthur close behind him. It was so easy for Alfred to tease him.

"Git," Arthur said as Alfred entered the classroom, still holding the trumpet. The two boys sat on the opposite sides of the classroom, and they split to go to their respective seats.

Alfred tried really hard to concentrate on the lesson, but history really wasn't his thing, what with all the dates and times you had to memorize. So during the lesson he kind of zoned out, focusing instead on Arthur, who was sending him a death glare from across the room. It made him feel like laughing, at least.

Once the class was over, Arthur wasted no time in walking straight over to Alfred.

"I want my trumpet back," he demanded. Alfred chuckled. It was cute that he was still trying.

"How about I give it back to you at the end of the day?"

"You-"Arthur started, but he was cut off by the teacher walking right next to the two of them. Arthur wasn't anywhere near academically suicidal enough to swear in front of a teacher.

"See ya later, Artie!" Alfred said, grinning at him one last time before walking to his next class. Arthur was left there to sputter and yell back,

"Don't call me that!"


	2. The Lockdown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long for me to start adding the other chapters guys! I got distracted with life.
> 
> Now, without further ado, here is the second chapter!

"I heard that we're doing the lockdown drill today, mes amis."

"Are you serious? That's awesome! Antonio, remember last year?"

"Ah, si! We were having such a great time in the closet! Too bad Lovi didn't join us…"

Arthur was trying his very hardest to ignore the group that was known throughout the entire school as the Bad Touch Trio. He really didn't want to know what the three of them got up to in the closet last year. He was, however, curious about the lockdown drill everyone seemed to be talking about this morning. So he had no choice but to turn to Alfred and ask him for information.

"Oh Artie, you're gonna love it!" Alfred told him, not even noticing when he scoffed at that infernal nickname. "See, every year, the police send in a guy that pretends to be a real intruder! Isn't that great?"

"Sure…"

"Anyway, the drama club kids get covered in fake blood and the intruder guy pretends to shoot them! It's so cool!"

Arthur was a bit skeptic. "I fail to see the allure in listening to teenagers scream bloody murder for an hour straight."

Alfred just rolled his eyes and playfully punched him on the shoulder. "Just you wait, Artie. Just you wait."

Slightly worried now, Arthur continued to set up his trumpet. The lockdown drill was supposed to start at any moment, but Mr. Edelstein was going to get as much playing time in as he could.

But Alfred didn't even get the chance to do his customary "warm-up" routine (which consisted of him playing the loudest and wildest his instrument would let him) before several screams could be heard in the hall outside, as well as two loud bangs. Then the announcements came on.

"Your attention, please. There is an intruder in the building. Commence lockdown procedures."

The second the announcements ended, everyone was up and scrambling around, trying to get into the corners and closets of the band room. Arthur was lucky enough to get into the largest closet, and closed the door behind him, ready to sit in the dark, bored out of his mind for the next hour.

However, that was not to be. For there was another occupant in the closet.

"Ohonhonhonhonhon! Bonjour, Arthur!"

"Oh bloody hell," Arthur said, opening the door of the closet immediately. There was no way he was going to spend an entire hour alone in the closet with that frog.

Not wanting to risk another closet with mysterious occupants, Arthur went to find a corner to sit in and was dismayed to find Alfred following him.

"Go find your own corner, git," he said, swatting at Alfred as if he were a fly.

"Hey! You know you want me to sit with you! That way I can protect you if the bad guy gets in!"

"It's a drill, idiot." But Arthur protested no further, and the two of them sat in the corner.

Problem was, they sat on the person already there.

"Oh! I'm dreadfully sorry! I didn't mean to sit on you!" Arthur said, jumping up.

"No, it's okay, it happens a lot," said the kid Arthur had sat on. Looking at him closely, Arthur noticed he bore a remarkable similarity to Alfred. Hopefully their personalities were not similar at all. Arthur didn't think he could take another Alfred in his life. One was already too much.

Alfred stood up again and smiled at Arthur.

"This is my cousin, Matthew! He's from Canada, but he's lived with me since forever!"

"Ah," Arthur commented, looking over the two of them again. "That explains the similarities between you two."

"Yep! Mom's still surprised we aren't secret twins or something."

"Sorry to interrupt," Matthew said quietly. Arthur wondered if he was a shy kid or if he was just naturally that quiet.

"No, it's perfectly alright. What is it, Matthew?" Arthur asked.

I was thinking we should probably be quiet. It is a lockdown drill, after all."

"Oh. Right." The two arguing blondes promptly shut up and sat down on either side of Matthew. There were a few others in their corner, Vash Zwingli and his little sister Lilli, along with Lovino Vargas, who appeared to be hiding from Antonio. From what Arthur had learned about Antonio and the Bad Touch Trio in general since he came to this school, he wasn't surprised.

"Is that bastard gone yet?" Lovino said, sticking his head out from his hiding place behind Vash (which Vash didn't look too happy about). He saw a flash of the Spaniard's brown hair and crawled even further into the corner, his head now tucked into his knees. "Shit…hide me!"

Lilli, one of the sweetest girls Arthur had ever met, began to move in front of him, only too happy to hide him.

"Looks like he's going into the closet…Francis is in there," Arthur mused, watching Antonio enter the closet, followed closely by Gilbert. "Now Gilbert's in there, too…Damn, it's the entire BTT."

"Kinda makes you wonder what they're doing in there," Alfred said, grinning. Lilli looked confused.

"What do you mean?" she asked. Vash sent Alfred a gaze that would have terrified a basilisk.

"Nothing, Lilli," Arthur answered quickly. "Alfred was just being stupid. As usual."

"Hey!" Alfred sputtered out before he was shushed by Matthew. "That's not nice!" he continued in a quieter tone.

"The truth hurts sometimes, git."

"You should know! Are those eyebrows, or furry monsters attached to your face?"

"Shut up about my eyebrows."

"Ooh, don't like it when people talk about your eyebrows, huh? Artie has big eyebrows! Artie has big eyebrows!"

Alfred would have been a dead man right then and there if there hadn't been a particularly loud scream from right outside the door, accompanied by lots of pounding.

"Please let us in! He's going to kill us!" came a male voice. One of the flute players, Feliks, let out a loud and dramatic gasp.

"That's Toris! We like, totally have to save him!"

The screams from outside got even louder as gunshot noises were heard.

"TORIS!" Feliks practically screamed.

"It's only a drill, for God's sake!" Arthur said. "Calm down!"

"Yes, do shut up or I will put all of you into detention," warned Mr. Edelstein.

The rest of their time in the drill passed much like that. Someone talking louder, followed by either Ludwig, Gilbert's younger brother, or Arthur telling the person to shut up. Funnily enough, the room was never quite silent, even though they were supposed to be during the drill.

The second the announcements came on, telling everyone the drill was over, Arthur sprang up immediately, stomping his leg on the ground. It had fallen asleep while he was sitting still.

Mr. Edelstein called the class to order by rapping his baton against the top of the podium. Everyone's eyes fell upon him and he began to speak.

"Regretfully, the drill has gone too long and we barely have enough time to warm up. You are free to spend the last few minutes here doing anything, as long as it is within scho- wait, where are Francis, Gilbert, and Antonio?"

A few of the students that had been in band last year, as well as the ones who knew the BTT really well, started giggling. Arthur rolled his eyes at them. "Mr. Edelstein, they're in the closet."

Mr. Edelstein let out an exasperated sigh. "Of course," he said, before walking over to the closet. Some of the other students followed closely after him, for a reason Arthur did not grasp. Were they trying to see if there was anything "going on" in the closet? He couldn't fathom why anyone would ever want to do that.

Mr. Edelstein was now at the door to the closet. He raised his fist and knocked on it. Everyone could hear several loud crashes coming from inside. Hearing the noise, Mr. Edelstein flung open the door to be encountered with Francis, Gilbert, and Antonio lying in a huddled mess of choir robes and small percussion instruments.

"Bonnefoy! Beilschmidt! Carriedo! Mr. Edelstein shouted, red in the face from anger. "Report to the principal's office immediately!"

The three of them scrambled up quickly, not wanting to disobey Mr. Edelstein when he was this mad.

"I can't believe they actually got caught this year!" Alfred said.

"Didn't they get in trouble last year, too?" Arthur asked.

"Ha, nope!" Alfred laughed. "They were out of the closet right when the drill ended. They are going to get in so much trouble!"

"Gilbert deserves it, though," came another voice from behind the two of them. Arthur turned around and saw one of the few girls in the band, Elizaveta, standing there.

"Hey Lizzy!" Alfred grinned. The two of them high-fived while Arthur stood there like a third wheel.

"I wanted to ask you something, Alfred," she said. "There's a party on Saturday at Feliks's house. You wanna come?"

"A party? Sweet! I will so be there!"

"Arthur, you should come too," Elizaveta said, turning to him.

"Oh, I don't know…" he mumbled.

"Dude! Artie! You should totally come!" Alfred said, almost jumping up and down with excitement.

"How many times do I have to tell you that it's Arthur, you git?"

"Obviously not enough," Elizaveta said, a small smirk on her face. "So, will we see you there, Arthur?"

Feeling the pressure of two pairs of eyes on him, Arthur had no choice but to say yes. To which both Alfred and Elizaveta squealed in delight (well, Elizaveta squealed. Alfred did the manly equivalent of squealing).

"That's great, Arthur!" Elizaveta said. "I'll see you two at the party!" she called as she walked away.

Once she was gone, Alfred turned back to Arthur. "You're going to love this party, Artie-"

"Arthur."

"-Arthur. Feliks throws awesome parties!"

"I'm sure your definition of awesome and my definition of awesome are very different, Alfred," Arthur said.

As the bell rang, Alfred picked up his saxophone case. "Just wait until Saturday, Artie. I'll prove I'm right."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We actually have lockdown drills like this at my school every year. 
> 
> They're really cool.
> 
> Please, please leave me a comment telling me how I'm doing!


	3. The Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all get two chapters in one night cuz i love ya

Arthur had just sat down to read a book he'd just picked up when the doorbell rang.

"Arthur, could you please get that?" came the voice of his mother from upstairs.

"Of course, Mum," he called back. He reluctantly set down his book and walked over to the front door, opening it. Standing there was the last person Arthur wanted to see on a Saturday.

Alfred.

"Hi Artie!" he said enthusiastically, sending him a nearly blinding grin. "You ready to go?"

"Go where?" Arthur asked, confused.

"Feliks's party, of course!"

Oh. Of course. The party he'd been invited to. Alfred must be here to take him to it, but how did he know where Arthur lived in the first place?

"Where did you get my address?" Arthur asked, carefully avoiding answering Alfred's question.

"Oh, Kiku gave it to me," Alfred said. "So, are you coming? We gotta hurry, dude, it takes a while to get there.

"Er, about the party," Arthur began. He wasn't sure how to put this. "I don't think I can go."

"What's this I hear about a party?" a voice called from behind him. He turned around, and saw his mother standing at the bottom of the stairs. Arthur groaned. Now that his mother had heard about it, he'd probably have to attend. His mother was always insisting that he needed to go out and be more social.

"Oh, there's a party at our friend Feliks' house tonight!" Alfred said cheerfully. "I came to pick Artie up."

"Really?" his mother said. "Arthur, you never told me that." She turned to Alfred. "Of course he can go. I hope it isn't a bother to drive him."

"Nope! Not at all!"

While the two of them were talking some more, Arthur slowly backed out of the room. He was not going to that party. Not if he could help it. He was almost out the back door when he was sharply pulled back around the middle.

"Agh! Peter, get off!" he said, swatting at his younger brother Peter, who was now attempting to drag him back to the front door. His mother and Alfred heard the commotion and the two of them walked into the room.

"What's going on here?" his mother demanded.

"He's attacking me!"

"Peter, get off your brother."

"But he was trying to sneak out the back door!"

His mother affixed him with a steely glare that sent shivers down his spine. "Arthur, is this true? Were you trying to avoid going to your friend's party?"

Arthur gulped, swallowing the retort that no, Feliks was not his friend, and said, "No Mum, I was just getting a coat, that's all."

"Then grab it, and get out of here!"

"Yes, Mum." He grabbed a random coat off the hanger without complaint and glumly followed Alfred to the front door, where Alfred's car was waiting for them.

Alfred turned to Arthur's mother and said, "See you later, um-"

His mother smiled. "Just call me Rose, dear. And your name is…?"

"Alfred."

"Well Alfred, take good care of my Artie, okay?"

Alfred grinned. "Of course."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Oh no. No. I am not going in that house. I am going home right now."

"No!" Alfred yelled, grabbing a surprised Arthur by the arm. "Artie, you promised! You have to come!"

"My mother may call me 'Artie' but that doesn't mean you get to, you bloody git!" Arthur wrenched his arm out of Alfred's grip. "And you can't make me come to this stupid party if I don't want to!"

"But it's gonna be so much fun!" Alfred whined. "Why don't you wanna come?"

"Use proper grammar. It's 'going to' and 'want to', Alfred. And I don't want to come because I don't like loud parties."

"You really are an old man, aren't ya, Artie?" Alfred teased before starting to drag Arthur towards the house.

"An old man? I'm the same bloody age as you are!" Arthur tried to pull out of Alfred's tight grip but it wasn't working.

"Yeah, but you're what my mom calls an…an 'old soul'," Alfred explained. "Y'know, stuffy, stuck up, bossy-"

"I am not!" Arthur interrupted.

"-angry, too," Alfred finished. "You need to relax, dude. Take a load off. That's why you need to come to this party."

Arthur sighed. No use trying to win this argument. "Fine, I'll come, but I won't have you dragging me in there like a pet to show off." He finally managed to pull away from Alfred, but continued to walk next to him.

When they reached the front door, Alfred reached out and rang the doorbell. They were hardly waiting five seconds before the door opened to reveal Elizaveta, who smiled at the two of them.

"Hi guys! Glad you could make it!" she yelled over the deafening noise in the background. "Come in!" She stood back to let them enter the house.

The party was completely insane. Within the first five seconds Arthur was in the house, he noticed at least five disco balls hanging from the ceiling in the main room alone, music so loud it pounded not only in his ears, but in his heart as well, and more people than should have been able to fit inside the house.

"Feliks' parents are okay with this?" Arthur asked.

"His parents are out of town!" Alfred shouted back, grinning that bloody grin of his. "Feliks does this all the time. He's never been caught. I bet it's hell to clean up, though."

Arthur blinked in surprise. Feliks, the person that screamed like a girl, who refused to participate in P.E because he might get a little sweaty, who was the only male flute player in the entire school district, was a rebel? This was new.

"Speaking of, where is Feliks?" Elizaveta asked to no one in particular. "I haven't seen him all night." Her question was answered by none other than Francis.

"Oh, Feliks is upstairs with Toris," he said while grinning lecherously. "If you know what I mean."

Elizaveta grinned back at him. "I'm going to go and say hi to them, then!" She hurried off, to the stairs, Arthur presumed.

"Salut, mes amis!" Francis said, turning now to face Arthur and Alfred.

"I'm not your friend," Arthur said quickly.

"Oh Arthur, you wound me!" Francis said, dramatically clutching a hand over his heart.

"Sod off, frog."

Francis left after that, still acting like a little drama queen.

"You see?" Arthur said, now facing Alfred. "This is why I don't go to parties. I always end up running into people that I don't like."

"Then you're lucky I'm here!" Alfred said, grinning at him.

"I never said I liked you, either."

"But you do."

"No I don't."

Alfred poked Arthur's cheek. "Come on, dude! I like you!"

Arthur pushed his hand away. "You doing stupid things like that is exactly the reason I don't like you."

"Fine! Then I dedicate this evening to making you like me!" Alfred looked very excited by this idea, while Arthur rolled his eyes and turned away from him. Luckily for Arthur, a distraction arrived in the form of Lovino's younger, nicer, and much more energetic brother, Feliciano.

"Hi guys!" he said, right into Arthur's ear. "Cool party, huh?"

"Delightful," Arthur replied dryly, rubbing at the ear Feliciano had just shouted into. "Er, are there any alcoholic beverages at this party?"

"Yeah! But mi fratello won't let me have any."

"Wonderful," Arthur said. "Feliciano, it was lovely chatting with you, but there is a drink over there with my name on it."

He strode over to the kitchen with more purpose than he'd had all night, Alfred following, still not giving up in his quest to get Arthur to like him by the end of the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It should be said that Arthur has had a drink before, such as champagne at family weddings and even a bit of rum with his uncle once. But the drinks at this party weren't as watered down as beer, or even rum. No, they were straight-up Polish vodka, much stronger than anything Arthur had ever drunk before.

Needless to say, he was completely wasted by his third shot.

Alfred, who had not been drinking, watched in dismay as Arthur slammed yet another shot glass down on the counter.

"Artie…maybe you should stop," he suggested.

"Stop? What're you talking about?" Arthur slurred, his words blending together. He reached for the bottle of rum, ready to fill up another glass, but Alfred pulled his hands away. "Hey!"

"You've had enough," Alfred said forcefully.

"You can't tell me what to do! I'm a bloody fluffy unicorn!"

Yikes. If Arthur couldn't even tell that he was human anymore, then he really needed to stop drinking. After a few minutes of struggling, Alfred finally managed to pull Arthur away from his drink and halfway down the driveway to his car before Arthur slumped into unconsciousness. He breathed a sigh of relief as he got Arthur into the backseat and bucked him in. At least no Arthur wouldn't be trying to get back to the drinks. But now Alfred had another problem.

How was he supposed to get Arthur back home?

There was no way Arthur's parents would be okay with Arthur consuming so much alcohol, or any at all. Alfred knew his parents would have been furious. Luckily for him, his parents were out of town for the weekend…

And then it hit him. He could bring Arthur to his place until he got the alcohol out of his system. Matt wouldn't tell his parents about it, and Arthur wouldn't get in trouble! And once Arthur woke up and found out what was going on, he would have to be Alfred's friend! It was a perfect plan, and It made Alfred smile to himself as he pulled out of Feliks' driveway, the party still going strong behind him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Al…you practically kidnapped him," Matthew said in exasperation once he had seen Alfred drag Arthur into the house.

"Nu-uh!" Alfred protested. "I'm making sure he doesn't get in trouble with his parents. I'm helping him.

"And did Arthur give you permission to bring him here?" Alfred went silent, looking down at his feet. "Exactly. If it's not consensual, then it's kidnapping."

Alfred put on his best pouty face; his eyes seemed to double in size. "Pwease, Mattie?" he asked in a baby voice. "Pwease? He can sleep in my room."

Matthew let out his breath in a huff. "Fine. But if he's angry when he wakes up, you're taking all the blame." Then Matthew left to go to his own room, leaving Alfred to bring Arthur upstairs all by himself.

"Thanks a lot, Matt," he muttered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Arthur woke up with the most painful headache he'd ever had in his life. He groaned, sitting up groggily and tried to get rid of the pain. Looking around, he noticed something. This was most definitely not his room.

"Bollocks," he cursed softly as the door began to creak open. In walked Alfred, who looked pleasantly surprised to see him awake.

"Hi Artie!" he said, his already loud voice especially grating on Arthur's ears this morning. "Glad to see you're up!" He walked over to the window and threw open the curtains, letting the morning light shine inside.

"Bloody hell!" Arthur exclaimed, diving under the blanket. "Shut the godforsaken sun off!" From his hiding place underneath the blanket, Arthur could hear the curtain being pulled back down.

"Sorry, Artie!" Alfred called. Arthur poked his head back out into the open air.

"Why am I in your bedroom?" He asked, having inferred that was where he was.

"Oh, I took you home after the party last night. You were really drunk. And don't worry, I called your mom so she knows not to worry."

"Shouldn't have let me drink so much," Arthur mumbled, his arms crossed over his chest.

"What do you mean? I couldn't have stopped you if I tried!"

"Still your fault."

"Aren't you even going to say 'thank you'? I could have left you at that party, but I brought you to my house. I let you sleep in my bed." Alfred looked really pissed off. "And now I'm kinda regretting that I did."

Arthur groaned as he sat up again, his headache worse than ever. He let out a long sigh as he said, "Yes, I suppose I should thank you. I've no idea how much trouble I'd be in if my mum saw me like this. Speaking of, where are your parents, Alfred?"

Alfred sat down at the edge of the bed. "They're in Hawaii. It's their 25th anniversary."

"Really? Well, good for them. It's nice to see a couple that actually sticks together through the years."

"Yeah," Alfred laughed. "What about your parents?" Arthur's expression turned dark. "Or not, if you don't want to talk about it."

"No, it's fine," Arthur said. "I haven't told anyone about this before, so it's just a little weird for me."

Alfred scooted closer, indicating he was ready to listen. Arthur took a deep breath, and then he began.

"My mother and father got married at a very young age. They were madly in love, or so I've heard from my aunt. I was boon soon after the wedding. And I think that's when everything started to change. My first years weren't very happy, as I remember it. Then Mum got pregnant again, with Peter. Once he was born, Father completely lost interest in us, and spent more and more time at his work than he did at home. One day Mum had enough and filed for divorce. Once it got through and everything was settled, we moved to America."

Once Arthur had finished, he leaned back into the pillow, feeling exhausted from telling his story. Alfred looked down at him with a mixture of pity and sadness.

"Oh my God, I'm really sorry, dude," he said in the quietest voice Arthur had ever heard from him.

"It's fine, Alfred," he sighed. "I was never very close to my father anyway." His head gave a particularly painful throb, and he winced.

"D'you want some aspirin or something?" Alfred said. "You gotta have a really bad headache."

Arthur nodded. "That would be lovely." Arthur got up and left the room. While he was gone, Arthur got a chance to look around a little bit.

It was an average-sized room, painted a blue that wasn't quite light, but not quite dark either. The wall behind Alfred's bed was covered with a large American flag. Looking across the room to the desk. Arthur could see a couple of model airplanes from WWII.

He wanted to walk over to look closely at them, but the door opened and in walked Alfred, carrying aspirin and a glass of water.

"Thank you," Arthur said as the glass was set down on the bedside table. "Sorry I've caused you so much trouble."

"No, it's fine," Alfred said. "What are friends for, anyways?"

"Friends?"

"Of course we're friends, dude!" Alfred exclaimed. "Now come on, take your aspirin."

"Yes Mum," Arthur replied jokingly. But he smiled as he took his aspirin. He had a friend now, his first true friend since arriving in America.

And he was determined to keep him.


	4. Of Math and Music

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there guys!
> 
> As a pre-warning: there are some confusing musical concepts in this chapter. I'll explain them in depth at the end.

If there was one class in school that Arthur detested with all his might, it was math. Science was alright, a bit confusing at times, history was easy enough, English was his best and favorite subject, but math was horrendous. The numbers were so confusing, and they had just begun to learn about equations with three variables in them. As if two variables weren't confusing enough.

This was how Arthur came to be hunched over his textbook during a break in band class, trying desperately to finish his math homework. He only had a few problems left, but break time was trickling away fast, and the problems made next to no sense to him. His brain was beginning to hurt and the numbers and letters were blending together to form a blurry mess.

In a final outburst of frustration, Arthur threw his textbook at the wall, but as it was so heavy, it only traveled a few feet before crashing down onto the floor, the noise slightly muffled by the carpet.

He was about to go pick the book back up, but someone got there before him. The book was placed back in his lap by none other than Alfred, who had noticed Arthur's struggle with his homework from all the way across the room. "Need some help?"

"No!" Arthur said defiantly. Alfred just looked at him, disbelief apparent in his eyes. "Oh, fine. I can't figure out these blasted three variable equations!" Arthur was a bit embarrassed to ask for help, but he needed to finish the bloody homework assignment.

"Oh, those? Those are easy!" Alfred pulled up a chair next to Arthur's and sat down, pulling the textbook over so it was shared between the two of them. "Take this problem, for instance." He pointed to the one Arthur had just been struggling with. "You're supposed to classify the system, right? So you have to take two equations at a time and get rid of one of the variables." Alfred took the pencil and graphing notebook from Arthur and starting writing on it. "You with me so far?"

Arthur nodded. But could you go a bit slower?"

"Of course!" Alfred looked absolutely delighted to be helping Arthur with his math, which made no sense to Arthur. How could anyone be so excited about math, of all things? But Alfred kept up his abnormally high level of enthusiasm, and was able to get Arthur to successfully complete a few problems on his own.

Arthur didn't have long to bask in the glory of his success before Mr. Edelstein was up at the front of the room, calling the class back to their seats.

"I apologize for taking such a long break," Mr. Edelstein said. "but someone," here he threw a nasty look at Gilbert, "decided it would be funny to try and lock me in my office."

"Dude! Nice one!" Alfred said, reaching over to give Gilbert a high five. Mr. Edelstein shot him a glare.

"Luckily for Gilbert, I'm in a forgiving mood today so he will not be getting as severe a punishment as he usually would. Gilbert, you are to sort music in my office for the rest of the class. My students from past years have left a lovely mess for you to clean up."

Gilbert groaned and slumped over to Mr. Edelstein's office, where a huge stack of music sheets was waiting for him. He shot Mr. Edelstein a nasty glare before slamming the door behind him.

"Now then, since that buffoon is no longer in the room, I have an announcement to make. In a few weeks, right before Thanksgiving, we will be competing in a regional band competition. I feel that this will be a very good opportunity for all of you to get better at your respective instruments."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. He'd been with this band since September, and he wasn't really sure if they were ready for a competition. Not that the skill level was low-far from it, actually-but most of the students messed around so much that they never got anything done. He couldn't see how they could possible prepare a song in two weeks.

By this time, most of the class had voiced their opinions on the matter.

"That sounds awesome!"

"Do we get to miss school?"

"Do we have to miss school?"

Mr. Edelstein raised his hand and the whole class quieted down. Arthur was surprised; he'd never seen the class this quiet this fast. "I realize you all have questions, and I will do my best to answer them. Yes, Eduard?"

Eduard, a clarinet player, lowered his hand and began to speak. "What day is the contest, and are we missing school for it?"

"The contest is on the 22nd, the Friday before Thanksgiving, so yes, you will be missing school. You will take around a permission form for all your teachers to sign. I'll answer more questions about it as the date gets closer, but for now, I'm going to hand out some music for you to try out."

When Arthur received his copy of the music, he looked over it. Ooh, this was going to be difficult. He could see the song had a huge range. He'd have to play all the way up to an A, and this was only the second trumpet part. He hated to think of what the first trumpets had. And then he heard a complaint coming from his left.

"What? Double high C? I can't play that!" Arthur's fellow trumpet player, Mathias, said. "There's no way!"

"Tough, Mr. K øhler," Mr. Edelstein said. "You will have to figure it out."

"It's not like a C is even that hard," Alfred said to Arthur. "Just watch me!" Alfred proceeded to play a scale all the way up to the double high C note on his music.

"Alfred, a C on a saxophone is very different from a C on a trumpet," Arthur explained. "Playing a C on a saxophone is like playing a G on the trumpet. Everyone can hit that."

"Oh," Alfred said. "Still, shouldn't it be easy? It's not that hard to get up high on this thing."

"Yes, but trumpets only have three valves. We have to tighten our lips to get out a higher sound, and that's pretty hard for some people. I can hit it sometimes, once I've warmed up for a little while."

"Can I hear?" Alfred asked.

Arthur rolled his eyes, but his retort was stopped by Mr. Edelstein bringing the class back to attention. "I believe you've had sufficient time to look this piece over. Try to do your best when we run through it, please. The better you do today, the less you will have to practice at home."

"Shouldn't we bring Gil back in before we start?" Antonio asked.

"Leave him in there," Elizaveta called out. "He deserves it."

"Gilbert's punishment was sorting music for the rest of the class, so that is what will happen," Mr. Edelstein said, a bit annoyed. "Now, if there are no further interruptions, I'd like to start the music now."

Arthur couldn't agree more, and as the low brass started the song, he played through the more difficult rhythms in his head. It wasn't that hard, once he thought about them for a minute.

A few measures before he started playing, he turned his head to look over at Alfred's music, and was surprised to see the sheer amount of rests Alfred had in this song. In fact, he didn't even start playing until sixteen measures after Arthur. Before he had more time to dwell on this, however, he had one measure left to get ready.

It was a difficult piece, that was for sure. Not only was the key signature different than usual (Four sharps? Really?), but there were plenty of accidentals, extra flats and sharps thrown in. Through his frenzied scramble to press the right valves down at the right times, he barely had time to register what the rest of the band sounded like. But it wasn't much of a surprise when Mr. Edelstein stopped the band halfway through the song.

He had closed his eyes and was breathing slowly through his nose. Arthur had come to learn that look meant he was frustrated. As he usually was, when it came to their band.

After a moment of silence, he looked at them all. "Well, I could tell that some of you tried your best while others were…lacking." Here he made eye contact with a few saxophones and Mathias. "I'll give you two minutes to look over the music again, and then we'll take it from measure sixty-eight."

Once he stopped talking, Alfred turned to Arthur. "Hey Artie, could you help me figure out this one rhythm? I don't get it."

Resisting the urge to correct him again, Arthur looked over to where Alfred was pointing. It was the same rhythm he had for a part of the song. "Alright, so you're confused by the eighth rests, aren't you?" Alfred nodded. "Well, all you need to do is count it in your head. One-and-two-and-three-and-four-and. That's what I do."

"Oh," Alfred said. "That makes sense. So I just count in my head?"

"Yes. It makes things a lot easier."

"I'll remember that! Thanks a bunch, Artie!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After they'd ran through the song a few more times, and Mr. Edelstein no longer acted like he wanted to bang his head against the wall, the class began to pack up. As the next class in the room was choir, they had the misfortune of putting away the percussion, and since there were only four drummers back there, they required extra help. So Arthur went back there to help push the timpanis back into the closet. When he turned around to pick up his backpack and instrument, he noticed his instrument was gone, again. Having a pretty good idea of who'd taken it, he looked to the door, where, sure enough, Alfred was pushing past people, Arthur's instrument in tow.

Arthur swung his backpack on and followed him, practically running into Matthew on the way out.

"I am so sorry, Matthew!" he said. "It's just- Alfred, he-"

"Took your instrument?" Matthew smiled. "He used to do that to me all the time, back when we were freshmen. He'll give it back."

Arthur sighed. "I know. I just wish he wouldn't do it."

Matthew shrugged. "It's just Al's way of showing he cares. You should probably follow him. Don't want to be late for class, do you?"

"No," Arthur said as he hurried out of the nearly empty classroom and down the hall, following Alfred to their second period class once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! This is the part where I explain music-y stuff! If you already know this stuff, feel free to skip it!
> 
> The difference between instrument notes: Alfred's instrument is a Eb alto saxophone, and Arthur's instrument is a Bb trumpet. This means that when Alfred plays a Eb, Arthur would have to play a Bb to match his pitch.
> 
> Trumpet range: To play a trumpet, you put your lips together and make a buzzing sound into the mouthpiece. To get a higher sound, you tighten your lips and push more air through. For some people, this is pretty difficult. I used to play the trumpet, but once I got braces, it was really hard for me to reach the higher notes, so I switched to euphonium instead.
> 
> Key signatures and accidentals: A key signature tells you which notes are sharp (raised) or flat (lowered) in a song. It's more common for trumpet players to see music with up to three flats, and up to two sharps. So seeing four sharps was really disconcerting for Arthur. Accidentals are extra flats and sharps that are written in right next to a note to change it for the rest of the measure.
> 
> And that's all! Please comment and tell me how I'm doing!


	5. The Competition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, here's another chapter!

After two weeks of practicing, the day had finally arrived. The permission forms were all signed and in, and they were pronounced ready to go by Mr. Edelstein. The band had assembled outside in the bus lane, and they were just waiting for it to show up.

"It's, like, way too cold outside!" Feliks said. "When's the bus supposed to get here?"

"I don't know!" Toris said. "But I'm sure it will be soon!"

Alfred turned to Arthur, both of them sitting on the half-walls in front of the school. "I'm bored."

"You're always bored when you're not stuffing your face."

"Hey!"

Arthur laughed. "Well, it's true. I don't think you even stopped to breathe at lunch yesterday before you finished all your food. I've never seen someone eat so fast in my life."

"That's because you've never met someone as awesome as me," Alfred said, striking a heroic pose.

"Keep talking like that and people will start mistaking you for Gilbert." Arthur pointed over to where he was sitting next to Elizaveta, who looked really annoyed.

"Ha, he's never gonna get her to say yes." Arthur gave Alfred a questioning look. "Oh, Gil's been trying at ask Lizzy out for years. She always turns him down. You'd think he'd give up by now, but he keeps trying."

"Poor bloke." As they watched the two bickering, Arthur saw a yellow shape out of the corner of his eye. He turned toward it, and saw that the bus was coming.

Arthur stored his trumpet under the bus quickly so that he could be one of the first people on, and Alfred followed close behind him. They went to the middle of the bus, where Arthur sat down, figuring that Alfred would sit in the seat across from him. Much to his displeasure, Alfred sat down right next to him, pushing Arthur up against the window.

"There's plenty of seat left for you!" Arthur said. "Why do you have to push me into the corner?"

"A dude's gotta stretch, bro!" Alfred answered, promptly taking up as much of the seat as he could. Arthur thought his predicament couldn't get any worse, but then all three members of the Bad Touch Trio decided to show up. Antonio and Gilbert sat in front of them, and Francis unfortunately plopped down right across from them. Arthur groaned and closed his eyes. This was going to be a long bus ride.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arthur was about ready to strangle someone by the time he got off that bus. Starting with Alfred. The oaf had taken up so much of the seat that Arthur barely had any room to move. And Francis had decided to tease him about it the entire way there. At least Gilbert and Antonio had left. Judging by the angry shouts in Italian coming from the back of the bus, he'd gathered that Antonio had moved next to Lovino. Poor bloke. The Spaniard by himself was a little overbearing, but put him near Lovino, and he got ten times worse.

Mr. Edelstein stood up at the front of the bus and pulled down the radio above the driver's head.

"Alright, once you grab your instruments from underneath the bus, follow me to the multipurpose room, where we will leave our instruments until it is our turn to perform." He put the radio back and walked outside, with the students following.

"Are ya nervous, Artie?" Alfred asked as he pulled out his saxophone case from the bus.

"Arthur," he corrected as he pulled out his trumpet. "And no, I'm not nervous. It's not like we're terrible, and even if we don't do great today, then who cares? It's just a regional competition."

"But don't you want to do well?" Alfred said, ignoring the correction. "You're such a perfectionist at other things."

"Of course I want to do well, I'm just saying that it's not the end of the world if we don't." As they talked, they followed their bandmates into the high school hosting the competition.

"Oh, well that's impressive," Arthur said as they walked into the school foyer. As the students entered the building, they were greeted by a stained glass wall that stretched up to the ceiling, with numerous twisted glass sculptures hanging from the ceiling. They were multicolored and caught the morning light as it filtered through the window, bouncing light everywhere. Arthur wanted to stare at it a bit more, but Alfred was tugging at his arm. He supposed he'd go take a closer look later.

When they got to the multipurpose room, everyone set down their instruments in a big glob by the corner of the room. Mr. Edelstein then announced that they had time to watch one school band perform before they were due to warm up. Everyone filed out of the room and walked to the auditorium, where they took up seats in the back of the audience. Arthur seated himself in the front row, and Alfred plopped down beside him.

"Do you think the other schools are gonna be good?" Alfred asked.

"It's 'going to'. Honestly, you need to put more work into your grammar. And I have no idea how good the other bands are going to be. Probably decent, if they bothered to show up here."

Alfred looked at a program he'd picked up in the multipurpose room. "Huh, looks like the band that's up next is playing a song named after a planet!"

"Which one?" Arthur asked.

"Jupiter," Alfred replied. "I didn't know there was a song about Jupiter!"

"Yes, Gustav Holst wrote a song for each of the planets, excepting Earth and Pluto."

Alfred looked surprised. "Why not Pluto? Is it because Pluto isn't a planet anymore? Because it totally is! Those stupid assholes that classified it as a dwarf planet don't know what they're talking about."

"No, it's not because Pluto was classified as a dwarf planet. Pluto wasn't even discovered yet when Holst wrote the songs."

"Oh, I see," Alfred said. Before they could say anything more, the lights in the auditorium dimmed and a group of musicians took the stage. By the dim light left in the auditorium, Arthur read on Alfred's program that they were the band from the school hosting the competition. He wondered how good they would be, and more importantly, how their band would compare to Arthur's band.

After the musicians were settled, an announcer took the stage, plucking the microphone out of its holder.

"Welcome, everyone, to the Green River Music Region annual contest for high school bands!" the man said, flashing a smile to the audience. "I am pleased to report that this year's competition is larger than it ever has been. However, because of this, we had to limit each band to one song apiece. Otherwise, we'd be here until after five, and none of us want that!"

He looked around the audience, as if expecting them to laugh. When no one did, the smile slid off his face and he cleared his throat. "Every band has a half hour of warm-up, followed by their performance. And now, without further ado, I present to you the Keagan Valley High School band and their director, Adam Fisher!"

The audience clapped as the director made his way up to the stage. He took the microphone from the announcer and said, "Thank you very much for that warm welcome! Today, our band will be playing Jupiter, Bringer of Jollity, composed by Gustav Holst and arranged for concert band by Alan Richmond."

The director turned around, and raised his baton as a sign for the band to put their instruments up. He swished it a few times, and the song begun.

The band was good, that much Arthur could tell. He could tell that they had a good grasp of the character of the song and that they practiced, which was more than he could say for his own band, unfortunately. The band performed the difficult piece well, until they hit the slower section.

What had been a beautiful piece of music, while not losing all of its beauty, faded in musicality as Arthur could hear notes in the key signature played natural instead of flat. He winced when he could hear important chords butchered by the less careful musicians. Once they came back to the faster finale of the song, they recovered, but it didn't erase the mistakes from the earlier section.

When they'd finished, everyone in the audience clapped. Arthur was nudged on the shoulder by Alfred, indicating that it was time to head to the warm-up room. Arthur felt a slight twinge of nervousness in his stomach, but shook it off. He would be fine, no matter what happened.

After they picked up their instruments from the multipurpose room, Arthur and Alfred walked together to the warm up room.

"Dude, did you hear that part in the middle?" Alfred exclaimed. "They totally sucked!"

"They didn't 'suck'," Arthur protested. "They just missed the key signature, that's all. And you're one to talk. You miss the exact same F# every single time we play our song."

"What? No I don't!"

"Yes, you do. Circle it, or something. You make the already terrible sound of the saxophones sound even worse."

"Saxophones are awesome, I don't know what you're talking about," Alfred said, giving his instrument a little pat. "The trumpets, on the other hand, sound like dying animals every time they tune."

"That's not our fault!" Arthur was turning slightly red in the face from anger. "Our instruments are different! The brass bends depending on the temperature so we have to retune them a lot. All you have to do is stick in your reed and you're good."

"Nu-uh! Our reeds have to be wet, otherwise they don't work! You can just screw your mouthpiece in, but I have to hold mine in my mouth for several minutes!"

Suddenly, they heard a voice from behind them.

"Hey, lovebirds, room's back here!" It was Elizaveta. She was standing about twenty feet back, and gesturing to an open door. "You could keep arguing if you'd like, but I thought you'd want to know where the rest of us will be."

The two of them turned around and followed Elizaveta into the room, where they were met with a wall of sound, protruding mostly from the alto saxophones and the trumpets, as per usual. Arthur could say whatever he wanted about the saxophones, but he had to admit that his section was annoying sometimes, too. They hurried to join their respective sections and started getting warmed up.

After about five minutes, Mr. Edelstein called the band to order. "I'd like to run through measures 177 through 213 at least once, so Mathias, Francis, and Lovino can practice their solos."

Arthur had to flip his sheet music around to find the right measure. Their piece was titled Fate of the Gods, and it featured a section where the trumpet, the French horn and the trombone had simultaneous solos, meant to symbolize horns warning the people of the arrival of Loki and his army. Alfred had said that it reminded him of The Avengers. Arthur had called him a twat.

They played through the section Mr. Edelstein had specified only once, because the trumpet and French horn solos were rather high and to make Mathias and Francis' lips sore would be a very bad idea.

Before they left the room to head to the auditorium, Mr. Edelstein wished them all good luck, and gave them a few last minute reminders. They left him behind in the warm up room and went to line up outside the auditorium.

Alfred passed the time waiting by playing rock, paper, scissors with Matthew while Arthur leaned up against the wall and talked with Vash and Lilli. Lilli was visibly nervous about the performance and Vash was reassuring her that it would be okay. Arthur joined in, telling her that she was a great flute player and she would do fine. Arthur was more worried about Mathias' solo, himself. The last few times they'd played through that section, Mathias had failed to reach the higher notes of his solo. Arthur hoped he'd be able to reach them in the heat of competition.

All too quickly, students from the host school that had volunteered were ushering them onto the stage. Arthur and Alfred found their seats in the middle of the second row and sat down, placing their sheet music on the stands provided. Alfred turned to Arthur and said, "Good luck, Artie. I know you're going to do awesome!"

Arthur smiled. "You too."

The announcer from before came up on the stage again and announced their school and director. Mr. Edelstein came up, announced their song, and turned to the band. He flicked his baton. One, two, ready, go.

When Arthur looked back on that performance, he was proud of his band. They took a difficult piece and made it sound good. The solo section went without a hitch; Mathias was able to reach his high notes. Even Mr. Edelstein looked happy with their performance.

When they were finished, the audience clapped and the band exited the stage. They went back to the multipurpose room and dropped off their instruments.

"Can we have lunch now?" Alfred said when Mr. Edelstein joined them.

"Yes, you may have lunch now. Meet me back here in one hour."

Alfred grabbed Arthur's hand and practically dragged him to the cafeteria, where a few of their bandmates already were. The snagged a couple of seats at a table with Mathias and Lukas, another fellow trumpet of Arthur's.

After a few minutes of eating, Mathias spoke up. "Hey Alfred, I'll give you five bucks to walk around to all of the Keagan Valley kids and pretend you're a kid from Ukraine or some shit to get money off of 'em."

"Dude, I'm only doing that if you pretend to be my dying brother who only speaks Ukrainian."

"Deal!" Mathias exclaimed. Lukas looked over at Arthur, and both of them simultaneously rolled their eyes. The gesture was simple, but the meaning was clear: Our friends are idiots.

Within five minutes, Alfred and Mathias were parading around the cafeteria, pretending to be a pair of brothers from Ukraine. The poor students looked so confused. Arthur listened in to the first table they went to.

"Hello!" Alfred said in an accent that sounded more like butchered Russian than Ukrainian. "My brother and I are from Ukraine, and we are very poor. My brother, he is very sick." Here, he nudged Mathias lightly with his elbow. Mathias began to cough, very realistically as far as Arthur was concerned. After about ten seconds of coughing, Alfred started to talk again. "If you could spare just a few dollars, it would be very helpful."

The table was full of what appeared to be freshmen, and, not knowing any better, they all pulled out their wallets and gave Alfred money, which he put into his pocket. He smiled, and the two of them walked away, looking for another table to victimize. Arthur just stood there, effectively put into shock.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eventually, the hour had passed and the band met Mr. Edelstein in the multipurpose room. Behind him, Arthur could hear Mathias recounting his and Alfred's adventures to a few of his friends. Everyone picked up their instruments, and they headed back out to the bus, which was waiting for them.

"So how much money did you get?" Arthur asked once they were out of the school's parking lot.

"About fifty dollars," Alfred said. "Mathias and I split it, pus he owes me the five for doing it, so I actually have about thirty bucks now."

"Nice. What are you going to do with it?"

Alfred blew some air out through his nose. "I want to spend it on something stupid like candy or something, but my dad's really pushing for me to pay as much as my college tuition as I can."

"Ah," Arthur replied. "I've been saving up for a few years now, so my mum should only have to pay for about half of it. It's so expensive to go to college, though."

"God, I know." Alfred put his hands behind his head and leaned back in the seat. "Sometimes I wonder if it's all worth it, Artie. College and all that."

Arthur turned to Alfred, surprised. "I thought you wanted to go to college so you can get a good job."

"Yeah, and I do. It's just so damn expensive. Maybe I should just join the army instead. Or I could train to become a pilot and fly in the Air Force. That'd be cool."

Arthur laughed. "Well, if you do decide to join the army, promise me you won't get yourself blown up, yeah? I'd hate to lose a friend."

"I promise," Alfred said, holding up a pinky. "I even swear on it."

Arthur twisted his pinkie together with Alfred's, and they let their hands fall back down as they turned to watch Mathias do another reenactment of Alfred's horrible Ukrainian accent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> viva la pluto
> 
> Also when my band went to a band competition a few years back, a couple of my friends did exactly what Al and Mathias did. They weren't as successful, though.
> 
> Please leave me a comment telling me how I'm doing!


	6. Kool-Aid and Car Rides

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter six! Hope you guys are all having a great day, and hope you enjoy the chapter!

"Artie, I'm pretty sure you weren't supposed to add that much citric acid."

"Oh piss off. It's not like it'll make that much of a difference. The stuff tastes horrible anyway."

Alfred put down his drinking cup and leaned over the counter until his face was inches away from Arthur's. "Then I triple dog dare you to drink it all in one gulp right now."

Arthur stared back at Alfred. "Watch me." And with that, he tipped the cup back and sent the entire mixture down his throat. Almost immediately, he was coughing and choking, spitting out the foul concoction. "Oh shit, that was horrible."

Alfred laughed. "I told you, dude."

Today was what the students of Arthur and Alfred's chemistry class called the best day of the year, also known as Kool-Aid Day. The teacher, Mr. Vargas, supplied each pair of lab partners with a large bottle full of Kool-Aid and two smaller cups. The students were then instructed to put in slight amounts of citric acid and baking soda, to see what would happen.

"How was I supposed to know too much citric acid made my throat burn?"

"It's called citric acid for a reason, bro. You're supposed to put in like half a gram." Alfred measured out about half a gram and poured into his cup. He took a sip and smiled. "See? Now that was delicious." He measured out another half gram and put it in Arthur's cup. "Try it yourself."

Arthur looked at Alfred with thinly veiled distrust in his eyes, but drank the mixture anyway. "You know, you're actually right. It's just a little more sourer than before. Now let's try the baking soda."

Less than two minutes later they had decided citric acid was definitely the favorable ingredient. By the time class was over, Alfred and Arthur had tried every combination of Kool-Aid, citric acid, and baking soda known to man. As this was their last class of the day,everyone packed up and left the second the bell rang. Mr. Vargas called to them as they left, "Don't forget that tomorrow's Thanksgiving! Please stay safe, and have a fun holiday!"

"I forgot that Thanksgiving is tomorrow." Arthur said as they headed to Alfred's car. One of the privileges of being seniors was that Alfred and Arthur could park in the main parking lot of the school, rather than the back parking lot for everyone else. This also meant they had at least a slim chance of making it out of the school's parking lot before the buses started to leave. If they were stuck behind the buses, they weren't getting out of the school for at least 15 minutes.

"Dude, how could you forget about Thanksgiving? Did you at least remember that you're coming with my family to our cabin on Friday?"

"Of course I remembered that, Alfred." The two of them got into Alfred's car. "You've been reminding me every day since you invited me. You're picking me up at 7:00, correct?"

Alfred started the car and pulled out of the parking spot. "Hell yeah. We gotta be up early to beat the crowds. Now," he said as he pulled into the already forming queue in the parking lot, "where are we going today? I vote Red Robin."

"You always vote Red Robin," Arthur said. "Why don't we go to that frozen yogurt place by Safeway? We haven't been there in a few weeks."

"Sounds like a plan!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanksgiving passed without incident for Arthur's family. He spent most of it packing for his trip, with his mother occasionally poking in to remind him that dinner was ready. As it was their first Thanksgiving in America, his family decided they would just relax at home, and not worry about cooking a big fancy meal. Arthur managed to get to bed that night at around ten; not bad by his usual standards.

He woke up the next morning at 6:00, and proceeded to drag himself out of bed and into the shower. He got out of the shower ten minutes later, got dressed, and headed downstairs. He made himself a breakfast of peanut butter toast and a cup of Earl Grey and managed to drag all of his bags down to the front door by the time the bell rang at 7:00 precisely. Arthur opened the door to find Alfred and Matthew standing there. Matthew looked just about as tired as Arthur felt, but Alfred looked like he'd just drank an entire 5 hour energy.

"All ready to go, Artie?" Alfred grabbed Arthur's larger bag and started dragging it to his family's truck.

Arthur's mother, hearing the commotion, joined Arthur at the front door. Ruffling his hair, she said to him, "Have fun, alright? And don't forget to call me."

"I won't, Mother," he replied. He then picked up his smaller bag and followed Matthew to the Jones family truck, where he would spend the next three hours.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So where did you say this cabin of yours was, again?"

Alfred answered through a mouthful of chocolate chip cookies, "Leavenworth. It's up in the Cascades."

Arthur sat back in his seat. He'd flown into the Seattle airport with his family when they'd moved. Because they were so busy with unpacking, and with school starting so soon, they hadn't had a chance to go sightseeing. It looked like Arthur was getting that chance now.

"So what's Leavenworth like?"

Matthew piped up from the far backseat of the truck. "It's this little town about three hours from here. Everything's German themed. There's even a shop there that sells lederhosen. Al would know. When we were thirteen, he used his entire allowance to buy one, and he wore it to school every day for the next week."

"Shut up, Matt!" Alfred said, blushing.

Arthur, meanwhile, was laughing so hard his face turned blue. "I would pay money to see a picture of that!"

"Oh, I've got one!" Matthew said, pulling out his phone. Alfred tried to reach for it, but Arthur got there first and held the phone out of reach of Alfred. He scrolled through Matthew's pictures until he found the one of Alfred in lederhosen.

"Oh my god Alfred, you were so cute when you were thirteen! What happened?"

"Stop looking at it! Put it away!" Alfred was blushing furiously, hiding his head in his hands. "Mom, Dad, do something!"

"To be fair, you were adorable," his mother said, smiling.

"I hate all of you!" Alfred shouted. Arthur reluctantly gave the phone back to Matthew and patted Alfred on the shoulder.

"It's fine, mate. You should have seen me when I was thirteen."

Alfred looked up, his face slightly less red. "Why, did you have lederhosen too?"

"No," Arthur said, laughing nervously. "But I did have blue hair and a fake ear piercing."

The entire back half of the truck exploded in laughter.

"Blue hair?" Alfred asked incredulously. And why did you have a fake piercing?"

"My mother wouldn't let me get a real one!"

After two solid minutes of laughter, Matthew managed to say, "I think it's fair to say that we all regret the person we were when we were thirteen."

There was a general consensus of agreement among the members of the car.

Some time later, Alfred brought the attention of everyone in the car to a very important fact.

"You guys, it's snowing!"

And so it was. Living in urban London for most of his life, and then the lowlands of the Cascade Mountains, Arthur had only been exposed to snow a few times. However, looking out the window of the truck, Arthur saw a plethora of white flakes falling down from the sky. He looked at the trees outside and saw that they were covered in snow, too. He laughed quietly to himself as he took in the beauty of it all. Alfred saw him from the other side of the truck and said, "It's pretty amazing, isn't it?"

Arthur had no choice but to agree.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally, after what felt like forever, the truck rolled into the driveway of the Jones cabin. It was still snowing when Arthur exited the vehicle, but not as heavily as before. He reached down and picked up some snow, shaping it into a ball. He aimed the ball at Alfred, who was in the process of leaving the car, and threw. It hit Alfred square on in the head, but before a full-fledged snowball fight could begin, Alfred's dad told them to bring their stuff into the cabin and unpack.

There would be plenty of time for fun and games later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for this chapter, folks! Please, please, leave a comment telling me how I'm doing, or hit the Kudos button if you like my story!
> 
> Thanks, and have a good day/evening/night!


	7. Leavenworth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is the wonderful Chapter 7! Enjoy!

The cabin consisted of a kitchen, a family room, two bedrooms, and two bathrooms. After they brought their stuff in, Alfred pulled Arthur over to the smaller bedroom.

"This is where Matt and I sleep," Alfred said. Arthur looked at the room. There were two twin sized beds, and a dresser.

"So, am I just going to sleep on the floor, or-"

"No, dude!" Alfred interrupted. "You're gonna sleep in my bed with me!"

"Oh, well, alright," Arthur said. He set his suitcase down on the floor and unzipped it.

Time to start unpacking.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

About 15 minutes later, Alfred, Arthur, and Matthew were all unpacked. They went into the living room and sat down on the couch. After a few minutes, Alfred's mother came out of the other bedroom.

"Are you guys done unpacking?" she asked.

"Yeah, we're done," Alfred said, a slight whine in his voice. "Can we go do something now?"

"Your father and I are going to Safeway to get food for the weekend. You three are welcome to do whatever, as long as you stay with each other, and you meet us for lunch at Café Christa at 1:30. Cool?"

"Cool," the three boys on the couch chorused. After his mom left, Alfred got up off the couch and addressed Arthur.

"Come on dude, before we do anything else, you gotta see the river."

"River?" Arthur inquired.

Matthew spoke next. "There's this park about ten minutes from here that Al loves. The river we drove next to on the way here flows through it. We've been exploring that park for years."

"Sounds intriguing," Arthur said. "Let's go."

As they were walking past the other cabins, Alfred decided it would be a good idea to throw a snowball at Matthew, who was leading the way. What followed after this can only be described as an all out war.

Matthew turned around slowly, an angry glint in his eyes. Alfred quickly realized his mistake, and started running. He didn't get far before he was pegged with a snowball that sent him falling onto the ground. He rolled over onto his stomach and shot up, bringing a handful of snow along with him. He shaped it into a ball and threw it in a perfect arc at Matthew, who expertly dodged it, before throwing another one Alfred's way. Alfred did not do such a good job of dodging it. It hit him square in the face, and he sputtered and tried to clear his glasses. Before they were clear, however, another perfectly aimed snowball hit him in the gut, knocking him onto the ground again.

Meanwhile, Arthur was standing off to the side laughing like a complete idiot.

That is, until a stray snowball hit him in the shoulder.

Arthur's disposition changed from sunny to stormy in an instant. "Alright, which one of you bastards threw that?"

"It was him!" they both said at the same time, each pointing dramatically at the other. Arthur looked at them and started laughing.

"I still can't believe you guys aren't twins. Now, let's get to this park of yours. We've wasted enough time already."

The rest of the walk passed without incident, and soon, the three found themselves standing at the gate of the park. Arthur read the sign, which said, Waterfront Park. Beyond the sign, he saw a gravel pathway winding along the riverbank, branching off into a left and right fork further down the path. Alfred took off running, motioning for the other two to follow him. Arthur and Matthew looked at each other, shrugged, and followed Alfred down the left fork of the path. A little farther down the path, Alfred stopped and slid down a small drop to the beach on the edge of the river. Arthur and Matthew followed suit.

Alfred walked over to a large rock and sat on it. "I was worried we couldn't get over here. The river's usually too high."

Arthur looked at the river. The edges were frozen, and he could walk a good twenty feet before reaching them. "It doesn't look too high now."

"That's because it's winter," Matthew said. "In spring, all the snow in the mountains melts and overflows the river. At that point, you're lucky if you can even get to the edge of the beach without getting wet. It's fun in the summer, though. We go swimming."

"I guess I'll have to come with you guys during the summer."

"Dude yes!" Alfred shouted from the top of his rock. "That's gonna be so much fun! Leavenworth is awesome in the summer!"

"I'll take your word for it," Arthur replied.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours of hanging out by the river later, the boys headed into town to meet Alfred's parents for lunch. The restaurant was located on the main street, right across from the giant maypole in the town square. To get to the restaurant, they had to climb a flight of steep stairs.

Inside, the restaurant looked very nice. Arthur noticed that the waitresses were all wearing what looked to be traditional German outfits. Before he had more time to take in his surroundings, he was pulled over to where Alfred's parents were sitting.

"Did you boys have fun?" Alfred's mom asked. "You sure look like it. Your cheeks are all red."

"Well, it's cold outside!" Alfred exclaimed.

"So, what are you boys going to order?" she said.

Arthur looked down at the menu on the table. There were a lot of things he hadn't heard of before. In the end he decided he'd go with a Monte Christo. When he announced this to the rest of his group, they commended his choice.

"That's probably their best sandwich," Matthew said. "I usually get it, but today I think I'll get frigadelle."

"I saw that," Arthur remarked. "Isn't that meatloaf or something?"

Matthew nodded. "The mushroom sauce they put on it sounds disgusting, but it's actually really good. You should have a bite when it gets here."

Alfred's dad piped up. "I think we all know what Al's getting."

"Well duh!" Alfred said. "Bratwurst! Otherwise known as the best German invention ever."

When a waitress came to the table, everyone ordered a drink. Arthur chose a black tea, planning to smother it in sugar and milk. Just because he was English didn't mean he took his tea plain. That would be crazy.

"What have you all been doing this morning?" Alfred's mom asked.

"Well, first we went down to the river," Alfred said after he took a big swig of his coke. "Then Matt and I had a big snowball fight, and then we walked by the river, and-"

"I get the point!" his mom said, giggling. "I'm glad you boys are having so much fun."

The time was passed with more mundane conversation until the food arrived. Arthur looked at his newly received sandwich. It had different kinds of meat and cheese on it, and the bread looked like a piece of French toast, complete with a dusting of powdered sugar. He dipped the edge of the sandwich into the strawberry preserves that came with it, and took a bite.

The sweetness of the preserves and the powdered sugar mingled with the savory flavor of the meat and cheese, creating a delicious mixture in Arthur's mouth. He gave an enthusiastic thumbs-up to everyone else at the table (who had been watching him take his first bite), who gave off a small cheer. After taking a few more bites, Arthur sat down his food for a minute.

"Hey Artie, you got some powdered sugar around your mouth," Alfred remarked. He dipped the edge of his napkin in a glass of water and started to clean off Arthur's mouth.

"I've got it, I've got it!" Arthur protested, grabbing the napkin from Alfred and finishing the job. "You're acting like my mother."

Alfred stuck his tongue out at him and went back to his bratwurst.

When everyone had finished eating, it was time to order dessert. Arthur looked at the menu, while evaluating the fullness of his stomach. He eventually decided that he couldn't finish any of the desserts by himself. So he turned to Arthur.

"Artie, you wanna split some apple pie with me?" he asked, poking Arthur repeatedly in the shoulder. "C'mon, you know you want some!"

"I'll have some pie as long as you stop poking me," Arthur said. "You are a literal five-year old child, Alfred Jones."

"Try having to live with him." Matthew ignored the annoyed look he got from his cousin. "I swear, Al hasn't changed since the second grade. He used to annoy all the girls at school. Probably because he liked them."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Alfred said hurriedly, brushing Matthew off. "Not like you didn't do the same thing."

"But to a much lesser extent~" Matthew teased.

When the waitress arrived to take their order, Alfred ordered his apple pie, and asked for two forks. The waitress nodded, smiled, and went back to the kitchen to give the order to the cook. After she was gone, Alfred shared a meaningful look with Matthew, and they both went to the bathroom at the same time, leaving Arthur alone with Alfred's parents.

"So, Arthur, do you know where you're going to college?" Alfred's mom asked.

"To tell the truth, I'm torn," Arthur replied. "I'd like to go back to England, but at the same time, I might enjoy school in the States as well. Alfred told me he's thinking of going to the University of Washington."

"He's got the grades for it," Alfred's mom said. "You wouldn't think it if you didn't see him every day, but Al works so hard to keep his grades up. He's taking advanced college level math, and it puts a lot of stress on him."

Arthur nodded in the affirmative, but didn't say anything as Alfred and Matthew rejoined them, Alfred looking a little more sullen than before and Matthew looking pleased. The pie arrived a moment later. Alfred's bad mood seemed to disappear as he looked at it.

He dug in and smiled, licking his lips. "You gotta try this, Artie," he said. Arthur picked up the other fork and put a bite of pie in his mouth.

It was good. Arthur wasn't usually a fan of pie, but he really enjoyed this one. When Alfred looked at him to gauge his reaction, Arthur gave a thumbs-up. Alfred grinned and continued eating.

After they finished lunch, the boys split from Alfred's parents once again, the latter deciding to go shopping together. The boys made their way back down to the river, and Alfred led them in a round-a-bout path that eventually lead to a large park nowhere near the main street of Leavenworth.

"What's this place?" Arthur asked, looking around himself. He could see several hills that sloped downwards, and, up on a higher hill, he thought he saw some cabins. "Are we close to the cabin?"

"Yeah, it's right up there," Alfred said, gesturing up to where Arthur was looking. "This is a pretty sweet place to go sledding. Hey, Matt, will you go up to the cabin and get us some sleds?"

"Sure, Al," Matthew said, smirking to himself. "I'll be right back."

After he left, Alfred turned to Arthur. "So, how do you like Leavenworth so far? Isn't it, like, the greatest place ever?"

"It's pretty cool, " Arthur said. "Cold, though."

"It is November," Alfred mused. "You should see it in summer. It gets hot."

"You'll have to show me."

"Yeah man! You can come with us every time we come here now!"

Arthur smiled. He couldn't believe he'd once thought Alfred was annoying. He was loud, and boisterous, but that was fine by Arthur. Alfred still stole his instrument most days, but now Arthur just laughed and let him carry it to their next class. He'd made such a good friend in Alfred, the best since coming to the States. Although they'd only known each other for a few months, they were already really close.

He was shaken out of his thoughts by a snowball to the face.

Arthur could hear Alfred laughing as he sputtered and tried to clear his face.

"You absolute tosser!" he shouted, which only served to make Alfred laugh harder. Alfred was so busy laughing that he didn't notice the raging Brit charging towards him.

They landed in the snow with an oomph, Arthur on top of Alfred. Alfred was still laughing, and his laughter was so infectious, Arthur couldn't help but laugh, either. Soon the two of them were collapsed in hysterics, rolling around in the snow. They didn't notice when Matthew came up to them, carrying a sled in each hand.

"I leave the two of you alone for five minutes and I come back to you giggling like kids at a slumber party."

Their laughter finally died down and Alfred and Arthur scrambled up.

"Cool Matt, you got the sleds!" Alfred said. His face was flushed, presumably from all the laughing. "Let's go!"

He grabbed a sled from Matthew, and Arthur followed the two of them as they walked towards one of the hills, ready to go sledding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear if Al gets any gayer the world will explode.
> 
> Please leave me a comment to tell me how I'm doing, or a kudos if you like this story!


	8. A Snowball Fight A Day Does Not Keep The Gay Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it is 2:30 in the morning and i do not regret that chapter title

Alfred pulled his sled along behind him, a million thoughts racing through his head.

He thought back to lunch, and after Matthew made those comments about teasing people he'd had a crush on…

"So what's up?" Matthew asked once they were out of sight and earshot of the others. "You only do this when you're upset about something."

"Matt, could you maybe lay off the whole 'Al only teases the people he likes' crap?"

"Why? It's not like you-" He stopped talking as it dawned on him. "You don't-oh my god."

"Don't tell anyone," Alfred pleaded. "And I mean no one."

"But why Arthur? No offense, I mean, the guy's great, but I didn't think he was your type. For one thing, he's a guy. Since when were you gay?"

"I'm not gay," Alfred corrected. "I'm bi. I still like girls."

"Okay, so you're bi. That still doesn't answer my question."

Alfred closed his eyes for a moment and opened them again. "I don't really know why I fell for Arthur," he said."But I did, and now I'm fucked."

Matthew nodded in understanding. "So you don't think he likes you back?"

"Matt, I don't even know if he's into guys."

"So what are you going to do?"

"No fucking clue."

That was true. He had no idea what he was going to do. He was 100% sure that he was into Arthur, and almost that sure that Arthur didn't like him back. He either had to say something, and be prepared to be disappointed (and ruin one of the best friendships he'd ever had) or never say anything, and go through life never knowing if his feelings were reciprocated.

What was a guy to do?

Either way, he wasn't going to do anything while they were still on the trip. He didn't want to risk making things awkward with no way for Arthur and him to be apart for very long. He could relax a little, knowing he would put off his dilemma until a later date.

Of course, that didn't mean his crush diminished at all.

In fact, throughout their sledding session, he was reminded of just how utterly fucked he was.

It wasn't that Arthur was hot, although Alfred thought he was pretty attractive. No, Arthur had attracted Alfred from the first time they met, because of his god damn sense of humor. It was just so… British. And different from anything Alfred had experienced before. He didn't like Arthur in a romantic way, at least, not at first. His attraction had started out as platonic, and he thought it'd changed somewhere around Feliks' party.

Where he brought Arthur home for the first time, while completely shitfaced.

He thought about that night a lot, now. How it felt to walk into his bedroom, and see Arthur there, in his bed. These thoughts hadn't really scared him. It wasn't the first time he'd had a crush on a guy. But it was definitely the strongest one.

Alfred was brought out of his reverie when they reached the top of a big hill. He was a little winded from the steep climb, and by the looks of it, so was Arthur. Matthew took the small sled he was holding and immediately went down head first, leaving Alfred and Arthur at the top.

"C'mon Artie, you sit in front," Alfred said, patting the sled.

Arthur did as he was told, and dug his heels into the ground to avoid the sled going forward before Alfred was on it. When Alfred was ready, he gave a slight push to Arthur's back, and Arthur drew back his feet.

They shot down the steep hill at an alarming speed, and kept going long after the ground had flattened out. To avoid landing in the river (and probably contracting hypothermia) Alfred dug his left heel into the snow, spinning the two of them around in a tight circle before finally coming to a stop.

The sudden stop of motion caused Arthur to tumble off of the sled and roll over before coming to a stop face down. When he sat back up, he was laughing. Alfred was laughing too.

Matthew came over to them. "If you guys are just going to sit here like dumbasses all day, then so be it. I came out here to have a good time, and I will."

Alfred threw a snowball at Matthew's back as he walked away. Like before, he hadn't really thought out the consequences of his actions. He barely had time to think 'Oh, shit' before he was attacked by a barrage of snowballs. Quick to recover, he pulled some snow toward himself and formed a couple of snowballs, throwing them as fast as he could make them.

"Artie! Help me out!" he barked as he got hit in the face with another snowball. "I can't make them fast enough!"

Arthur shuffled over to Alfred and began forming more snowballs for Alfred to throw, even letting off a couple himself.

Alfred thought that, with two of them, they could easily beat Matthew. But apparently, a lifetime of snowball fights in the backyard had taught him nothing. Matthew was in his element in the snow. He was like an icy demon. A formidable force to be reckoned with, and feared.

In a flash, Arthur had taken a devastating blow to the face from a perfectly aimed snowball, and toppled backwards in momentary shock. Alfred, stunned by the sudden fall of his fellow soldier, looked away long enough for Matthew to deliver the final strike.

Coughing and sputtering, barely able to see through the snow, Alfred army-crawled his way over to where Arthur was lying.

"I have failed you, my friend," he gasped out. "I have failed to avenge you." He then gracefully laid his head on Arthur's chest.

Which was almost immediately shaking with laughter.

Matthew was laughing behind them. "Al, you are the single biggest dork I have ever met. No one can compare to someone as dorky as you. If I looked up the word dork in the dictionary, there would be a picture of you."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Alfred said, standing up and brushing the snow off of his shoulders and chest. "What time is it? Because the sun's setting and I'm starving."

Matthew checked his watch. "Almost 5:30. You wanna call it a day?"

Alfred looked at Arthur, who said, "I'm getting hungry, too. Plus, it's a little cold out here."

So the three of them picked up the sleds and began the trek back to the Jones cabin.

By the time they got back there, it was nearly six, and the sky was getting much darker. Alfred knocked on the door of the cabin, and it was opened by Alfred's mother, who ushered the boys in and immediately gave them hot cider. She suggested they each take a shower before dinner, and insisted that Arthur, as he was the guest, go first. She went back into the kitchen to help Alfred's father with dinner, and Matthew turned to Alfred.

"At the rate you're going, you don't need to worry about me telling anybody. You'll spoil it for yourself."

"What do you mean?"

Matthew rolled his eyes. "That little stunt you pulled today? With the whole 'laying your head down on Arthur's chest' thing? Pardon my French, but that was really gay. I'm not even using that as an insult. It was literally gay. "

Alfred bit his lip. "It wasn't that bad, was it?"

"Your gayness could be seen from the International Space Station." Matthew tucked his hair behind his ear. "You gotta do something, Al. I bet it's driving you even crazier than it's driving me."

Alfred furrowed his brows. "What do you mean it's driving you crazy?"

"You're my cousin. After all the years I've lived with you guys, probably closer to brothers. I don't want to see you get hurt, and doing nothing, like you are right now, is hurting you."

Alfred's tone became angrier. "What do you want me to do, tell him? Now? Because I can tell you right now how that's going to end, and it won't be pretty."

"No, not right now. But soon. Before Christmas."

"What?! That's like, no time at all!"

"It's plenty of time for you to make the decision to either pursue your feelings for Arthur, or just let them die. It's not going to get any easier."

Alfred sighed. "Yeah, I know. Thanks, Matt."

"Happy to help."

They sat in silence for a few minutes until Arthur came back, dressed in fresh clothes, and with hair still wet from the shower. Matthew got up to take the next shower, leaving Alfred and Arthur alone on the couch.

"Feeling better, Artie?" Alfred asked. "You said you were cold before."

"Yeah, much better," Arthur said. "Hot showers are God's gift to this forsaken earth." He lied back into the couch, closing his eyes. Alfred swore quietly to himself; he looked even cuter this way. Maybe if he were braver he could…but no. He'd promised himself he wouldn't do anything to wreck this trip.

With Matthew's new ultimatum, it might be the last good memory he shared with Arthur for a while.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner was a meal of pork chop and rice casserole. One of Alfred's favorites. Looking at the smile on Arthur's face after taking his first bite, Alfred knew he liked it, too. Matthew had requested a cup of applesauce and was dipping his pork chops into it.

"So, how was everyone's day?" Alfred's dad asked. Whenever Alfred's family had dinner together (which was most of the time) Alfred's dad would ask everyone how their day was going. Matthew started.

"I totally crushed Al and Arthur in a snowball fight, so that was pretty cool," Matthew said, grinning. Alfred rolled his eyes at him.

"Yeah, well Artie and I went wicked fast down a hill on the sled!"

"I dunno, Alfred," Arthur cut in, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "It wasn't that fast. I've seen better."

Alfred gasped. "Better? What could possibly be better than that ride? As far as I'm concerned, that's the best thing in the entire world!"

"Then you, my dear Alfred, need to get out more," Arthur said, laughing. "Because if that's the biggest thrill you've ever seen, then you are leading a sad life."

"What have you seen that's better?"

"London has its fair share of thrills. You know, there was this one time Peter and I went to an amusement park and…"

As Arthur talked, Alfred found himself focusing more on the way his mouth moved then what he was actually saying. He raptly watched the hand gestures Arthur used to accentuate his storytelling and sighed to himself. He caught Matthew looking at him from next to Arthur, one eyebrow raised. He thought of the ultimatum and shivered to himself.

Hey, at least there was still a while to go before Christmas, right? Plenty of time to come up with a plan.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After dinner, everyone watched late night TV shows for a few hours before Alfred's mom called bedtime at about 11. Which was fine by Alfred. He was bone tired after a day of snowball fighting and sledding.

The three boys took their turns in the bathroom, changing into pajamas and getting ready for bed. When Alfred got out of the bathroom, Arthur was already asleep. Careful not to wake him up, Alfred shimmied underneath the blanket and faced away from Arthur, worried about what he could subconsciously do in his sleep. As he was drifting off, he thought again of how much he liked Arthur, and of how truly fucked he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and please leave a comment telling me how I'm doing with the story!


	9. Pancakes and Nutcrackers

Matthew woke up the next morning and rolled over on his side to check the time on his phone. 5 AM. Groaning, he pulled himself up out of his bed, knowing that he wasn’t getting any more sleep at this rate. He looked over at Alfred and Arthur, noting how close to each other they were. He sighed to himself and walked out of the small bedroom and into the kitchen.

Predictably, no one else was awake yet. Getting up early was something that came naturally to Matthew, while the rest of his family needed poking and prodding to get up before 9. Taking care to be quiet, he pulled out flour, butter, milk, eggs, and sugar.

Time to make some goddamn pancakes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pancakes were kind of Matthew’s thing. His dad had taught him how to make the perfect pancake when he was nine, and Matthew had never forgotten how. He loved making them, partially because they were delicious, but also because it made everyone so happy. His pancakes were renowned by the family as the undisputed best, and everyone loved eating them.

While he’d been making the pancake batter, he’d also prepped a pan to cook bacon on, and soon the scent of it was drifting throughout the cabin. Matthew knew it was only a matter of time until-

“Do I smell bacon?” Matthew turned around and faced the kitchen door. Sure enough, there was Alfred, looking like a kid on Christmas morning. He was practically salivating.

“Come and get some,” Matthew said, using his elbow to gesture toward the plate of cooked pieces. “And take a few pancakes while you’re at it.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Alfred plopped three pancakes down on his plate and grabbed the maple syrup off the counter. He sat at the kitchen table and took a bit out of a pancake. “Damn Matt, this is awesome! How do you make such kick-ass pancakes?”

“Practice and natural talent,” Matthew replied, flipping another pancake onto the plate. “Is Arthur still sleeping? When I woke up the two of you were sound asleep. And very close together.”

Alfred blushed a little before clearing his throat. “Yeah, he’s still asleep. I didn’t want to wake him up; it’s still pretty early.”

Matthew checked the clock for the second time that morning. “Huh. Only 7:30? You’re up early, Al.”

“The bacon reached deep into my soul and told me to wake up.”

“Of course.” 

Matthew went back into the small kitchen to monitor the pancakes. By the time Arthur stumbled out of their room at 10 past 8, Alfred had already managed to eat five pancakes and three pieces of bacon.

“Morning, Arthur,” Matthew said cheerfully, plopping a few pancakes onto a plate and bringing it out to him. “Hope you like pancakes and bacon.”

“You won’t be disappointed,” Alfred answered, drizzling a copious amount of maple syrup over his pancakes and digging in.

Alfred was leaning towards Arthur, watching him take his first bite of a Matthew Williams pancake. When Arthur broke into a big smile afterward, so did Alfred. Matthew stood in the doorway to the kitchen, watching the two of them. He hoped to God that somehow, miraculously, Arthur would like Alfred back before Christmas.

He didn’t think Alfred could take the heartbreak.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So what are you boys planning on doing today?” Alfred’s dad asked at the breakfast table not 15 minutes later. Eventually the scent of pancakes and bacon had permeated the entire cabin, and Alfred’s parents had come out of their room, appetites strong.

“I wanted to go back down to Waterfront Park and explore some more,” Alfred proposed. “Artie hasn’t even been on Blackbird Island yet.”

“I’ll go with you two,” Matthew said. “God knows you need someone to keep you from falling into a snow hole and dying.”

Alfred’s dad weighed in with his choice. “I’ll be out there too. I was planning on going fishing today. Maybe we can have a free meal tonight. That is, if there’s anything left to catch.”

“I’m staying in and reading,” said Alfred’s mom. “You all go out and have fun.”

With their plans for the day set, the household set themselves upon the task of preparing for their individual activities. Alfred, Arthur, and Matthew retrieved their snow clothes from the laundry room and laced up their snow boots before saying goodbye to Alfred’s parents, making a plan to meet up back at the cabin by dinner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I don’t think Mother Nature indented for ice to ever get this thick,” Arthur complained as he tried not to fall down on the thick ice that covered the bridge in Waterfront Park. “It must be at least a half-inch!”

“You should see it in January,” Matthew said, navigating the treacherous terrain with ease. “You can’t even kick through that ice. Al sprained his toe trying.”

Alfred winced like he was recalling the memory.

The three of them managed to make it across the bridge without any real incident. However, the ice continued onto the trail, and this trail sloped uphill. 

Without any hesitation, Matthew bounded up the slope, no slips or stumbles in the process. Arthur and Alfred tried the same, but they only got halfway up before they slowly slid back down. Matthew just laughed at them. 

“You can’t go slow,” he said. “The only way you can get up is if you run.”

Alfred tried doing just that. He then proceeded to smack into the ice face first. Not to be defeated, he tried again, backing up a few feet in order to get a good start. He ran with all his might, stretching up and grabbing onto Matthew’s outstretched arm, using it to pull himself up. The whole ordeal was exhausting, and Alfred flopped over onto his back the second he was on flat ground again, closing his eyes.

“You could have just gotten up on the side.”

Alfred’s eyes shot open and he looked behind Matthew, where Arthur was standing with his back against a tree. Arthur gestured to the ground he was standing on. “Snow makes for wonderful traction.”

Alfred ignored Matthew’s chuckles and said, “That’s the boring way to get up. I prefer the fun way.”

“Is exhaustion the fun way?”

“Please, you’re arguing like an old married couple,” Matthew joked, playfully rolling his eyes. “Are we going to do some exploring, or are we going to sit here like dumbasses all day?”

“Yeah, let’s go,” Alfred said, using his feet to get off the ground. 

They followed the main trail for a few more minutes, until they came to a small footpath that branched off of the main trail. Alfred peered down the footpath and turned back to Matthew and Arthur, grinning.

“Please don’t ask if we can go down the spooky path,” Matthew preemptively said.

“Can we please go down the spooky path?” Alfred asked, unfazed by Matthew’s statement. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

“This is how people die in horror films, Al.” Matthew crossed his arms. “We’re not going in there.”

Alfred stuck his tongue out at Matthew. “Then Artie will go with me!” He grabbed onto Arthur’s arm, while Arthur tried hard to keep himself from laughing.

“To be fair, Alfred, I don’t fancy going off the main trail either.”

Alfred let go of Arthur’s arm and crossed his arms, making a pouting face. “I hate you both.” 

Arthur rolled his eyes, saying, “Fine. If you’re going to be a baby about it, I’ll go with you. As long as you stop whining.”

“Yay!” Alfred’s expression immediately bounced back to excited, and he grabbed back onto Arthur’s arm. He started pulling him into the forest, shouting over his shoulder, “Matt, you coming?”

“Someone has to keep you two alive.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The path, while already spooky at its head, got progressively darker as the three of them traveled deeper into the forest. Matthew wasn’t all that spooked, but he couldn’t say the same for Alfred. The scaredy-cat jumped at every snap of a trig and rustle of a branch, clenching onto Arthur’s arm every time. Matthew felt bad for Arthur. His arm had to be numb by now. 

For all the terror contained within the footpath, it sure was short. It wasn’t even three minutes before they emerged, blinking, into the bright daylight. Matthew took in his surroundings, and noticed that they had come out onto a narrow beach, the river not ten feet from them. Looking left, upstream, he caught sight of the large rock Alfred had sat on the morning before. He pointed it out to the others, and the three of them started walking towards it, Alfred hurrying ahead. Hanging back with Arthur, Matthew heard him muttering, “Gonna leave a bruise”, while rubbing the part of his arm Alfred had grabbed.

Poor guy. Alfred was very strong when he wanted to be. Even when he didn’t mean to be.

Once they reached the rock, they were back in familiar territory for sure. Matthew checked his watch, and saw that it was nearly 1:00.

“You guys want to go back for lunch anytime soon?” Matthew asked, his stomach rumbling as if to punctuate his question. “Because I’m getting hungry, and it’s pretty much lunchtime.”

Alfred looked down at his watch. “Shit, you’re right. Let’s go.”

And so the three of them trudged through town and to the cabin door.

Upon knocking on the cabin door, they were greeted by Alfred’s mother, who told them they were on their own for lunch, and there were sandwich supplies in the kitchen.   
Six slices of bread, the majority of the peanut butter, and all of the jelly later, the boys had their sandwiches. Sitting at the table where they’d eaten breakfast, there was no sound, except for chewing. 

The first to finish his sandwich, Alfred leaned back in his chair until it hit the back of the couch, and he let out a long sigh.

“So, what do we do now?” he asked, boredom dripping from his words.

Matthew licked the last of the jelly from his fingers and stood up to bring his plate to the kitchen. “You know, we haven’t been to town yet. I mean, we walked through it, and that’s great, but I’d like to actually stop and go inside a few.”

“Sounds good to me,” Arthur chimed in, finished with his sandwich. “I’d love to look inside a few of the shops.”

“Mom, we’re going back to town,” Alfred shouted at the closed bedroom door as he pulled on his coat. “We’ll be back in time for dinner.”

“Have fun!” came the muffled reply. Alfred motioned to the other two and they shrugged their coats back on and headed back out to face the town of Leavenworth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An hour of poking their heads into women’s clothing stores and cheap knick-knack vendors, the boys found a haven in the Nussknacker Haus. Arthur was admiring the store’s extensive collection of Shakespeare and King Arthur nutcrackers, Matthew was inspecting the intrinsic quality of the Napoleon and Louis XIV nutcrackers, and Alfred was busy playing with one of the generic ones. With a short glance at him, Matthew knew he was trying to figure out how it worked. 

“Please don’t break it, Al,” Matthew said. “I really don’t want to pay for a broken nutcracker today.”

“I’m not gonna break it!” Alfred waved off Matthew concern and promptly dropped the nutcracker.

“Jesus, Al!” Matthew rushed to grab the fallen nutcracker before it crashed into the floor, only to realize that Alfred had faked the drop and was holding the nutcracker safely in his hands.

“I really hate you sometimes, Al,” Matthew seethed as both Alfred and Arthur let out a string of giggles. “Let’s go somewhere else before you give me a heart attack and I die.”

He left the store in a huff, followed by the other two, still very amused.

As a sort of revenge, Matthew led them down the street, towards the very shop where Alfred had purchased his dreaded lederhosen so many years before.

Standing outside the door, Matthew looked back to find a very pale Alfred. 

“Matt, please, no. Anywhere but here.”

Arthur looked confused. “Why? What’s-“ He froze when he saw the lederhosen hanging on the door, and let out a noise of comprehension. “Ah. Of course.” 

“Your old lederhosen are getting a bit small, no?” Matthew was enjoying this immensely. “I thought we could get you some new ones.”

“I hate you so much,” Alfred groaned into his hands. Arthur rubbed his back in a comforting motion.

“The feeling is mutual,” Matthew retorted, but he didn’t press the issue. He was too preoccupied by what he saw now, between Alfred and Arthur.

Dare he say it, there was something there that hadn’t been there before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the new chapter, folks. Don't mind the lateness, there was a lot of writer's block that I think I pushed past now.
> 
> See you next chapter.


	10. Calculus to Chemistry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whaaaaaaat?! 36 hours between chapters?!?! 
> 
> I am on a role, my friends.

Alfred woke up the next morning and shot straight out of bed, his mind reeling from the dream he’d had the night before. It was slipping away from him, but he could still recall the feeling of Arthur’s lips on his…

He shook his head and relocated to the kitchen, where everyone else was already awake and eating hurried breakfasts of cereal and toast. He was confused by the rush until he remembered that it was Sunday. The day they were heading back home. The sense of urgency in the air pushed him to follow in the others’ footsteps of a quick meal, and he grabbed a bowl of Rice Krispies.

After they ate breakfast, Alfred, Arthur, and Matthew went back into their room and began separating their clothes from each other. Alfred made sure he had his iPod, and made a quick check of the room to make sure everything was gone as he was preparing to join everyone else outside. Finding nothing, he left the room and went outside, where the car was being loaded for the ride home. He sighed as he looked back at the cabin. He loved it in Leavenworth, and he hoped that they would come back again soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All three of the boys had brought homework with them to do on the long journey home. Arthur had a rough draft for an essay about Oedipus Rex due for AP Lit, Matthew had a worksheet for AP Environmental Science and a reading assignment for AP Government, and Alfred had an assignment for AP Calculus on optimization. 

Despite their attempts to create a quiet environment for working, they ended up talking to each other the entire time they were doing their homework. 

“I am so lucky this is only a rough draft,” Arthur said, crossing out yet another phrase in his essay. “This is probably going to be the worst thing I have ever written.”

“You know what we do in Modern American Myths?” Alfred asked. “We read comic books. And write papers on them. It’s the best course decision I’ve ever made in my life.”

“In Film as Lit we watch movies,” Matthew chimed in. “I think I win here.”

Alfred rolled his eyes and turned back to his calculus homework. He was pretty smart, if he said so himself, but even optimization could give him a lot of trouble. He was glad that his teacher would go over homework in class before it was turned in. That way he could get his questions on some of the tougher problems answered.

Stuck on a problem about a ladder sliding down a wall, Alfred glanced over to Matthew, who was putting away his Environmental Science homework.

“Are you serious? You’re already done?”

Matthew smiled. “What can I say? EnviSci is probably the easiest AP class the school has. Francis took it last year, and he told me that he had two hours left after he finished his test. And he got a 5.”

“Since when are you so chummy with Francis?” Alfred asked. 

“He’s not such a bad guy, Al,” Matthew defended. “You just need to take the chance to get to know him.”

“As a saxophone player, I refuse to associate with the snobbery that is French horns,” Alfred stated.

“And you’re not snobby?” Arthur asked. “Wait, no. You’re just annoying.”

Alfred would have stood up in protest, but he was buckled into the seat. Instead, all he got for his troubles was choking on the seatbelt cutting into his neck. Arthur and Matthew laughed, and Alfred glared at them for a moment before returning to the dreaded calculus. 

A few minutes of blessed silence later, Arthur spoke up. “At least we have band tomorrow morning to finish all this up. I haven’t even started my Chemistry homework yet.”

“If you want, I could help you with that,” Alfred offered. “I mean, if I somehow miraculously finish this Calculus homework by then.”

Arthur scoffed. “Like you won’t. You’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. Especially at math. You even helped me understand three-variable equations. Not even the math teacher could help me do that.”

“Yeah, well, you know,” Alfred said, scratching the back of his head. “I miss stuff like that. It was just numbers and letters. In calculus, they throw sentences and sigma and limits at you. It’s not the same.”

“I’m going to pretend I know what you’re talking about and move on.” Arthur scratched out another word in his essay. “But seriously. Please help me with my Chemistry homework tomorrow.”

“You got it, dude.” Alfred shot Arthur a smile before he went back to his Calculus homework, cursing the great masters Leibnitz and Newton.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two hours later, the car pulled up to Arthur’s house, and Arthur and Alfred got out, the latter to help the former carry his stuff back. As they stood at the door, waiting for Arthur’s mother to open it, Arthur turned to Alfred.

“Thanks again for inviting me to come with you guys,” he said. “I had a lot of fun.”

Alfred laughed. “It was no problem! You made the trip like 50 million times better!”

Arthur’s mother opened the door, killing all further conversation.

“Hey, Mum.”

“Hi, Ms, uh…”

Arthur’s mother smiled. “You can call me Rose, you know.”

Alfred grimaced. “Okay, uh, Rose.” Saying an adult’s first name like that just felt wrong. 

Arthur’s mo-Rose- turned to Arthur. “Did you have fun? Peter’s been complaining all weekend. Something about ‘why does Arthur get to go have fun and not me?’”

Arthur laughed, and Alfred cursed the feeling he got in his stomach when he heard the sound. “Well, did you at least do something fun while I was gone?”

“Of course,” Rose said. “It wasn’t as fun as Leavenworth, however.”

Alfred shifted awkwardly, forgotten, until Arthur turned to him. “Thanks again for this weekend. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Going back to school after an extended break was unanimously the worst thing in the world. Alfred practically dragged himself into the band room, especially tired from his late night of finishing calculus homework. He would have done it during band, but he’d promised to help Arthur with chemistry.

He got out a chair and stand, pulled his music out of his backpack, and started to put his saxophone together. He stuck his reed in his mouth and it was still there two minutes later when Arthur plopped down next to him, chemistry textbook in hand.

“Good morning, Alfred,” Arthur said cheerfully, his happiness failing to pervade the cloud of exhaustion surrounding Alfred.

Alfred took the reed out of his mouth and tried to smile back at Arthur. “Hey.” He glanced at the chemistry textbook. “So, what’re we dealing with today?”

“Dimensional analysis,” Arthur groaned.

“Gross.” Alfred echoed his tone perfectly. “Okay, let’s see a problem.”

“I understand it when there’s two or three calculations to make,” Arthur explained as he opened his textbook to a problem. “I just don’t understand it when they throw moles into it.”

Alfred rubbed his forehead as he looked at the problem. He’d done this exact same homework assignment on Wednesday night, but that felt like so long ago, he was having trouble remembering what to do. “Okay, so when it asks for the amount of molecules, that’s when you use moles. You multiply by 6.022 times 10 to the 23rd, otherwise known as the Satan of numbers.”

Arthur chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Alfred continued helping Arthur for the next few minutes until Mr. Edelstein walked up to his director’s podium and called the class to attention. The few remaining conversations in the room fizzled out, helped along by glares from the teacher. When the room was sufficiently quiet enough, Mr. Edelstein began to speak.

“First things first, the results from the competition a few weeks ago have come in.”

The delicate silence in the room was shattered as everyone started discussing how they thought the band did.

“I bet we aced it!” Mathias announced from Alfred’s left. “We kicked the shit out of everyone else!”

“I don’t know,” Vash said from the front row. “I don’t think we were the best band there.”

Alfred looked at Arthur, who shrugged. “Honestly, we could have done great, we could have done terrible. In the moment, I thought we were amazing, but that could have been the excitement from performing.”

“You were good, for sure,” Alfred said. “I would know. I could hear you the entire time.”

“You weren’t so bad, yourself.”

The two of them looked back up at Mr. Edelstein, who appeared to have given up on regaining the attention of the class. He looked like he was waiting for it to fizzle out on its own. 

It finally did about two minutes later. Acting as if nothing had happened, Mr. Edelstein continued. “I am pleased to announce that we had the highest score in the regional competition, and our scores have qualified us for the state competition the week before winter break begins.”

In the midst of the jubilation and chaos that followed, Alfred locked eyes with Matthew from across the room, who looked at him with an eyebrow raised.

I know, Alfred mouthed back, before turning to look at Arthur, who was busy talking to Kiku. He turned back to Alfred and gave him a smile, saying, “Aren’t you excited?”

Alfred smiled back at him. “Hell yeah, I’m excited! We’re gonna kick everyone’s ass!”

As Arthur turned to talk to Kiku again, Alfred’s heart pounded in his chest, and he bit his lip. 

Matthew’s deadline was fast approaching.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the class had finally calmed down, Mr. Edelstein handed out their piece for the state contest. Glancing at the title, Alfred saw that it was called Machu Picchu-City in the Sky, composed by Satoshi Yagisawa.

He picked up the piece of music, and opened it up to see that it was 4 pages long. Gross. Upon closer inspection, he saw that it was covered in black marks.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, looking across the band room to gauge everybody else’s reactions. Most of the band held the same distraught expression.

Ignorant to the emotions of his band, Mr. Edelstein held up his baton, saying, “We’ll take the first few run-throughs slow. I want to warn you; this is a grade 6 piece, and as some of you can already tell, very difficult. I have confidence in your ability to get this piece up to par, judging by your success two weeks ago. But you will need to practice.” Here, he paused for a moment, taking the time to glare at a few choice individuals, one of which Alfred was not. Mr. Edelstein returned to his previous position, and counted the band off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That was the worst thing I have ever heard in my entire life,” Alfred moaned at the end of class as he put away his saxophone. “We are never going to win at state.”

“You have to take this with a grain of salt,” Arthur said. “This was our first time ever playing this piece. I bet you that if everyone were to go home and practice tonight, we would sound exponentially better tomorrow.”

Alfred scoffed. “Please. I bet you that not even half the band’ll practice during this entire week.”

“Well, what about you?”

Alfred looked sheepishly down at the floor. “I’m…busy, you know? Homework, and stuff.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “And you expect the band to do well.”

“Hey! I’ll practice! Just…maybe not this week.”

Picking up his trumpet, Arthur began walking to the door. “Never put off until tomorrow what can be done today.” As what appeared to be an afterthought, he stopped, leaned down, and picked up Alfred’s saxophone.

“Hey, what are you-“

Arthur looked back over his shoulder and laughed. “Returning a favor!”

Alfred could only look on in dismay as Matthew came up behind him and patted him on the back.

“So how’s the whole crush thing working out for you?”

“Fuck you, Matt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Band pieces range from Grade 1 to Grade 6, meaning that Machu Pichhu (a piece I sightread at my school's graduation ceremony last year) is one of the hardest band pieces out there. Ew. 
> 
> See you guys next update!


	11. The Frog and the Plot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Apologizing in advance for the short chapter. Next one should be longer.

Arthur groaned and put his head in his hands, elbows propped up on his desk. He felt a light pat of comfort on his back and jerked up to see Francis hurriedly retracting his outstretched hand.

“What’s wrong, mon ami?” Francis asked with a look of genuine concern on his face. Despite his better judgment, Arthur decided to divulge what was bothering him.  
“I think I just turned in the worst essay I have ever written.”

Francis smiled. “At least it’s only the rough draft.”

“Yes, but when we peer edit them, someone is going to have to read it.”

Laughing, Francis said, “That’s a problem for another day. Besides, I know for a fact my essay is worse.”

“And how can you possibly know that?”

“Because I never did it.”

Before they could talk any further, their English teacher called the class to attention.

~~~~~~~~~~

Their task had been set, and now Arthur and Francis were poring through their copies of Oedipus Rex, looking for quotes to use in their imminent debate. 

Arthur’s English teacher loved to host in-class debates. And Arthur enjoyed them about as much. He prided himself on being able to find the exact pieces of evidence that would destroy the other side’s case. In this case, the class was supposed to debate whether the proper punishment for Oedipus was to exile him, or kill him. Randomly assigned, Arthur and Francis were both on the side of exiling him. 

A few minutes later, Arthur was completely prepared for the debate. He turned to his right and saw that Francis was, too. They’d had thirty minutes to prepare, and only ten had gone by. Some of his group members were still looking, but most were talking. 

In an effort to break the silence, Francis began, “So, how was your weekend in Leavenworth?”

Arthur was surprised. “How did you know about that?”

Francis laughed. “I was talking to Matthew in band today. I asked him how his weekend went, and he told me about how Alfred invited you to come to their cabin in Leavenworth with them.”

“Ah.” Come to think of it, Matthew had mentioned how he was friends with Francis the day before.

“I repeat my question. How was your weekend?”

“It was good,” Arthur said. “I had a lot of fun.”

Francis rolled his eyes. “Come on. There’s got to be more to your weekend than ‘I had fun’. Give me details so I can live vicariously through your personal life.”

Arthur knew he’d have to comply with Francis’ demands if he ever wanted to be left alone. Sighing, he began. “We drove up Friday morning, got there, unpacked, went down to the river-“

“Stop, stop, stop!” Francis shielded his eyes with his hands. “Please never go into a career involving storytelling. I could fall asleep out of boredom.”

“Well if you’re so curious then just ask me what you want to know!”

“Alright, I will.” Francis thought for a moment, then clapped his hands together. “Ah! First question: what was your favorite thing that you did?”

Arthur reflected on the past weekend. There was one memory that stood out. It put a smile on his face just thinking about it. “We had a snowball fight. Alfred and I against Matthew. Needless to say, we were destroyed.”

Francis laughed. “Of course. Matthew is a force of nature in the snow. It’s the Canadian in him.”

Arthur continued, “We were obviously losing, but Alfred just kept trying. I got hit in the face by a snowball so hard that I fell backwards, and when I managed to clear the snow from my eyes, Alfred was going on about how he’d ‘failed to avenge me’ and then pretended to die. I don’t think I’ve laughed so hard in my entire life.”

Francis chuckled a little at Arthur’s retelling. “You know, it’s interesting,” he said. “A couple of months ago, I could have sworn you hated Alfred. And now look at you. Inseparable. The best of friends.”

“You’re right,” Arthur agreed. “Funny how these things work. You know, I thought I hated him because he was annoying and loud, and a little stupid.”

“To be fair, he kind of is,” Francis interjected.

“Yes, but there’s some good things about him too.” Arthur’s mind drifted over some of the nice things Alfred had done for him. “He’s helped me with my math homework more than a few times. And, after Feliks’ party” - at this, Francis smiled wistfully – “Alfred actually took me to his house because I was drunk. I didn’t even know him that well at the time.”

“Alfred really is a great guy,” Francis said. “You’re lucky to be friends with him.”

Arthur laughed. “Tell me about it. At this point, it’s hard to believe that I ever thought of him as annoying.”

The teacher was calling the class back to attention, and Arthur began to pore through his notes in preparation for the debate. Francis turned around to face her, but not before he murmured, “You two are really good together.” 

Slightly confused, Arthur narrowed his eyebrows. What could that possible mean?

~~~~~~~~~~

Matthew left Film as Lit and pulled out his phone. He’d heard it vibrate towards the end of class, but the teacher never noticed. The class had been watching Citizen Kane for the last few class periods, so his phone had been drowned out. Swiping open his phone, he saw a message from Francis.

FROM: Francis 2:27 PM  
Meet me outside the band room after school.

Matthew sighed and turned the opposite way from the front door. Why did the band room have to be all the way towards the gym?

As he approached the band room, Francis was already there, enthusiastically waving him over. 

“What is it, Francis? Al’s gonna be waiting for me at the car.”

“This will only take a minute,” Francis said, practically dragging Matthew into the band room. “I have information regarding your cousin and Arthur.”

Matthew’s eyes widened. He’d asked Francis to investigate the extent of Arthur’s feelings, but he didn’t think he’d actually get anywhere. “What did you find out?”

“Nothing concrete.” Francis took a glance into Mr. Edelstein’s office, but he wasn’t there. “He didn’t say anything, but with the way he was acting? I think Arthur likes our saxophone player. But he doesn’t realize it yet.”

Nodding, Matthew said, “So we need to keep prying. Try to make him realize that he likes Al before Al asks him out.”

“That’s the best plan.”

Matthew pushed open the band room door. “Thanks for your help, Francis.”

“Anything for a friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've heard Citizen Kane is supposed to be a good movie. I should watch it sometime.


	12. Preparing for State

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys quick heads up: After this chapter, I've barely got anything planned out, so updates are probably going to slow down a lot. Bear with me, you'll thank me later.

Soon enough, it was two weeks to the state competition. As the date had gotten closer, the band was fed more and more details from Mr. Edelstein. The competition was in Spokane, 4 hours east from them. Why anyone thought a Washington state competition should be held in Spokane was beyond anyone’s reasoning. The band would be taking a bus the Thursday before winter break started and staying in a hotel for three nights. Supposedly, they were going to be taking one of the nicer buses, the ones with footrests and overhead storage. Mr. Edelstein also told them that it would be equipped with a DVD player, and to bring movies rated PG or lower. 

As for Machu Picchu (infamously dubbed “The Piece from Hell” by several band members), it was coming along nicely. From what Arthur was hearing, everyone had definitely practiced more than once. Even Mathias and Gilbert sounded better than usual. The change in Mr. Edelstein was astonishing. He wasn’t snapping at every rehearsal, and Arthur swore he caught him smiling once or twice. He could feel the band coming together as a more cohesive body, and it felt amazing. He thought to himself that maybe they would win at State.

One day, Mr. Edelstein brought out a special percussion instrument. He showed everyone what it looked like (a little like a red can opener), and then twisted the top.  
It sounded as though birds had entered the room. Everyone gasped, and started talking at once. 

“That was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen!”

“Oh my god, it sounded like a real bird!”

Mr. Edelstein managed to get the class to calm down three minutes later. He launched into a discussion of the object. 

“This is a bird call. When I twist it,” he twisted it again or emphasis, “there is a bird noise. Now,” and at this point, he stepped off the podium, “I am entrusting this to our very own piccolo player, Lilli.”

Vash’s little sister stood up and accepted the device. Arthur had never talked to Lilli very much, but there were a few things he knew about her. She was in ninth grade, and she could play both flute and piccolo pretty well. She seemed pretty excited to be playing the bird call, though.

“You’ll play it for a few measures at measure 227,” Mr. Edelstein said. “I’ll make sure I cue you in.” 

Alfred turned to Arthur. “He’s always nicer to the freshmen. You know, I think he even tolerated Gil back then.”

Mr. Edelstein announced that they would take a short break before running the piece again. Instead of retreating into his office (the man had learned), he went through the score for Machu Picchu, presumably looking for weak spots. 

“So what are you doing over break, Artie?”

Arthur leaned back in his chair, setting his trumpet on the ground. “Homework, probably. We’re not going anywhere. Maybe I’ll see a film. What are you doing?”

Alfred sighed. “Who knows? Pretty sure I’ll be free, though. Hey, maybe we can hang out a few times! You could come over to my house and I could teach you how to play Super Smash Bros.”

“You’re on,” Arthur laughed.

~~~~~~~~~~  
From across the room, Matthew was observing the two of them with critical eyes. He narrowed his eyebrows and pulled out his phone, careful to make sure Mr. Edelstein didn’t catch him.

TO: Francis 8:23 AM  
Al is so glaringly obvious I can’t believe Arthur doesn’t notice

From the trumpet section (Francis was visiting Antonio), Matthew heard the quiet tone of a cell phone. He waited for a minute and received a reply.

FROM: Francis 8:24 AM  
Oh mon ami, Arthur is not exactly the most observing fellow. Give it time.

Matthew shot back a text immediately.

TO: Francis 8:24 AM  
I know. I just wish he would do something already. BTW, your solo is sounding amazing

FROM: Francis 8:25 AM  
Merci beaucoup! I would extend the same compliment to you, but it is so hard to hear your instrument…

TO: Francis 8:26 AM  
Tell me about it. Mr. Edelstein always tells me to play louder, and we all know what happens when a bassoon is played too loudly

FROM: Francis 8:27 AM  
Don’t remind me.

Matthew was about to respond when Mr. Edelstein suddenly remarked, “Rehearsal is not social hour. I would ask certain players,” here he glared at Francis, “to put their phones away during class, and that they will be confiscated if I see them again.”

Francis rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at Matthew. He just shrugged and put his phone away, picking up his bassoon and getting ready for the run through. 

Whenever he had rests in the song, Matthew would sneak a glance back towards Alfred and Arthur. He was always careful, and snapped his head back if either of them moved their head towards him. Every time he looked back, he saw the two of them either playing their part, or quietly talking under their breath during an extended rest. He sighed to himself, and hoped that Arthur really did like Alfred back, and that Francis wasn’t just bad at reading people. 

He and Francis had been working together in the “get Alfred and Arthur together or die trying plan” for a little while now. They hadn’t made a lot of progress since Francis’ first conversation with Arthur. He’d told Matthew that he was dropping subtle hints, and that, so far, Arthur seemed to be really positive and enthusiastic when it came to talking about Alfred. It was a good sign, Matthew hoped.

After the run through had finished, Matthew looked back at Alfred and Arthur again. They had no need to talk quietly or closely anymore, but their faces were no farther apart than they had been a few minutes prior. Both were laughing, and Matthew thought he could detect the hint of a blush on Arthur’s cheeks. Adorable assholes.

Pulling out his phone again, he vented out his frustration through capital letters.

TO: Francis 8: 44 AM  
I JUST WANT THEM TO KISS AND LOVE EACH OTHER IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK

TO: Francis 8:44 AM  
I AM GOING TO GO HOME, MAKE SOME GODDAMN PANCAKES, AND EAT THEM OUT OF ANGER

~~~~~~~~~~

Francis swept into AP Lit right before the bell rang. He sat down in his seat slowly and calmly, smiling at the teacher who was shooting daggers at him.

He felt a light punch in the shoulder, and heard Arthur’s voice whisper, “That was a close one, frog.”

Turning around just enough so that Arthur could hear him, he replied, “I’ve been closer.” 

Their class had just moved on from Oedipus Rex to Hamlet. Today, the teacher, Ms. Hasheed, was assigning roles to everyone in the class. They would be reading the entire play out loud in class, stopping to discuss scenes and some of Shakespeare’s vernacular. 

Francis picked his role early on (Fortinbras) and zoned out, thinking to himself about the Alfred and Arthur situation, and how to best deal with it. He did note, however, that Arthur received the role of Hamlet. 

Ms. Hasheed announced that their reading would begin the next class, and that everyone was free to start looking through their copy of the play or to do something else until the bell rang. 

Francis took his chair and spun it around to face Arthur. “Excited to start Hamlet?”

“Of course I am!” Arthur smiled. “Shakespeare was a genius, and I’ve never read Hamlet before. 

Francis nodded and pulled his phone out of his backpack. After Mr. Edelstein’s threat that morning, he hadn’t touched it. He saw he had two new messages from Matthew. When he opened them, he chuckled.

“What is it?” Arthur asked. 

“Ah, nothing. Matthew is so funny sometimes.” He put away his phone. “How has Machu Picchu been going for you? Do you think we’ll be ready in time for State?”

“It could be better, but it also could be a lot worse,” Arthur said. “I mean, we still have two weeks until the competition, right? It’ll all come together by then.”

“And what about Alfred? How is he doing with it?”

Arthur looked taken aback by the question. “What? He’s fine. Why would you ask that?”

Francis made an internal note. Arthur was flustered by the very mention of Alfred. This was a very good sign. “I was just wondering. Alfred’s saxophone playing isn’t always, well, up to par.”

“What are you talking about?” There was more than a hint of indignation in Arthur’s voice. “Alfred plays his saxophone just fine. In fact, I think he’s really good at it.”

Strike two. Francis knew he was getting somewhere good with this. He decided to say one more thing. 

“That’s funny of you to say, Arthur. Because, if I remember correctly, just a few short months ago you were complaining about the damage his playing would do to your ears. The tables have turned, no?”

Arthur’s eyebrows furrowed and he opened his mouth as if to let off a retort, but nothing came out. He closed his mouth and looked red in the face, glaring at Francis. How adorable.

Francis smiled slyly at Arthur and turned back to his own desk, pulling up the texting app on his phone.

TO: Matthew 1:12 PM  
He’s head over heels. You’re welcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh. machu picchu.


End file.
